Growing Pains: The Putting Lessons Prequel
by bethaboo
Summary: A prequel to my one-shot Putting Lessons. Edward and Bella have always been close, but when puberty hits, there's a shift and then a crack in their relationship. Then one summer, during high school, they are forced to re-examine what lies between them.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Yes, here we are, just like I promised. . .the Putting Lessons Prequel. There's going to be a total of five chapters.  
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**A HUGE thank you to Mommyofboth, for whom this fic was written. She bought me in the Support Stacie Auction this year after narrowly losing me last year and was so awesome to let me do exactly what I wanted. Also, she caught a few mistakes that I made in the initial draft. THANKS!!!!!**

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BPOV

I couldn't even remember a time when I didn't know Edward Cullen.

Eighteen years ago, my parents, newly married, moved into a white house with blue trim. The house next door was sage green, and in it lived another set of newlyweds: Carlisle and Esme Cullen. The friendship started with a chat between my dad, Charlie, and Carlisle Cullen as they exited their houses to grope around in the dew-covered grass for their respective newspapers. That afternoon my mom Renee went to the green house next door with a plate of cookies and a plea for coffee (as she had mysteriously lost her own in the move).

The newspaper and the plate of cookies were famous and much-discussed items in a friendship that had already spanned eighteen years. The Swans and the Cullens had dinners together, played poker, hosted barbeques and when, a year later, Renee tearfully announced that she was pregnant, Esme's hug was loving yet envious. Two months later, before Renee had even begun to show, Esme became pregnant with her own bundle of joy.

When we were little, I used to tease Edward that he'd been born because of me. He'd scoff, naturally, but I'd smugly argue that without seeing how happy my own parents were, his own wouldn't have had him at all.

Of course, my parents stopped having children after I was born. I never understood if it was because they choose not to or because they couldn't. Whatever the reason, they had an additional extended family to love, so while I might have been an only child, I was never alone.

A year after Edward came the twins, Rosalie and Alice, who looked so totally different that nobody in their right minds would have ever thought they were even sisters. Rosalie took after Esme—she was tall and elegant and had hair just a few shades lighter than Esme's caramel color. Alice, everyone decided, was a throwback, because her tiny frame and dark hair and eyes were totally foreign to the Cullen family.

I never felt a conscious difference between me and the other Cullen children. We were like one family, merged. When I told the teachers at school that Esme was my _Aunt _Esme, they'd politely correct me, and deep down, I knew they were right. Of course Esme wasn't my aunt, she was my _mother_. Duh.

Just as Esme was my other mother, Rosalie and Alice were my sisters. But though we were close, they always had each other. My mom would always tell me when I felt excluded that it was because they were twins and in their own special world. Edward, however, was different.

Maybe it was because we were the same age. Maybe it was because we'd been placed together in the same crib while our mothers visited nearly from birth. Maybe it was because we were around each other constantly, whether we liked it or not, but Edward and I were inseparable.

Childhood passed in a warm, naïve cocoon of innocence and love and happiness. There isn't a single memory of those halcyon days that doesn't have Edward in it.

But like all good things, childhood came to an end.

Sixth grade was my first hint that some things truly _were _too good to last. Edward wanted to make other friends—friends who were boys. Friends who would say gross things and make fart noises out of their armpits and throw snakes and worms and spiders at us girls, who would run away screaming.

I remember the first time Edward participated and my own confused reaction. Why was he behaving just like the stupid boys he'd always made fun of? Couldn't he see, I thought with great big tears welling up inside of me, that he was _better _than those boys? Special? Different? Why would he want to be like them when he could be fifty times better than them just by being himself?

These were deep questions for me. I'd never wondered why people did what they did, or why kids longed so much to fit in with other kids. Not once in my life had I ever felt left behind or rejected because all I'd ever wanted was just to be with Edward, or with Alice and Rosalie.

That day, like every other day, I waited for Edward to meet me at the end of the schoolyard so we could walk home. Swinging my backpack, I still thought about what had happened that day at recess, but it never occurred to me that Edward wouldn't show and when he didn't, I was devastated.

I walked home alone, the tears I'd held in from recess, falling slowly down my cheeks in big wet drops. I'd poured out my heart to my mom, who had sat and held me and tried to explain that we were growing up and Edward and I might not always be best friends.

I couldn't understand. Renee was patient and explained as best she could to a brokenhearted girl that the boy she adored more than anyone else on earth might be more interested right now in mud pies and illegal fireworks than in playing pretend or talking with the girl he'd known all his life. When my dad got home, she left me with him and for the first time in as long as I could remember, she went to see Esme and she didn't take me with her.

I don't know exactly what my mom and my other mom discussed that day, but the gist of it was easy to figure out, given the subtle differences in my life after that day.

Edward no longer spent recess with me. I walked home with Alice and Rosalie instead of with Edward. He had a new group of boys he hung out with, though on the weekends, he came over at least once and at least initially, things were the same between us. We never discussed the worms he threw in my direction when we were at school or any of the ways our lives had changed, but it was there, in every word we said and in every look. Both of us knew instinctively that things were changing and that nothing would ever be the same.

I took Edward's change in alliances hard, though I tried to hide it as I hated worrying my mother and I did not want Esme to know, because there was a chance she might tell Edward and the idea of him knowing my secret pain was excruciatingly humiliating. Edward's betrayal was the first of any kind that I'd experienced and it seared and burned and twisted me until even when Edward attempted to be friendly, I'd rebuff him. As he grew more extroverted and made tons of friends, I turned towards myself, losing the pain of my reality in books and in elaborate fantasies I'd write down painstakingly. Renee called it a "creative outlet" but I heard the undertone of concern in her voice. She continued to push me towards Alice and Rosalie, but Edward had made me distrustful and I'd never been able to totally penetrate their bubble, so I resisted her transparent gestures and even most of their friendly overtures.

By the beginning of high school, our routines had solidified. After what felt like a lifetime of being loved and part of a pair, I now felt totally alone. Everyone else, it seemed, had someone. Renee had my dad, Charlie. Esme had Carlisle. Even Alice and Rosalie had each other. And Edward had the whole high school already bowing and scraping before him.

And I had no one.

As I sat in my math class and stared at the back of his head, the hair faded from the shocking red of his childhood to a dark bronze, I tried to decide if I loved him or I hated him.

How, I thought, was it even possible for me to think that I felt both at the same time? But I couldn't deny the strength of my feelings scared me sometimes. I felt _something—_but what that something entailed was difficult for me to understand. I did know that the resentment of middle school had grown and hardened into a hard ball lodged under my breastbone that seemed to choke off both air and words.

Edward was never rude enough to refuse to acknowledge me. Whenever we'd pass each other in the hallway, he'd smile and say "Hello, Bella," in the same god damned respectful voice he used to speak to every other in the school. He hadn't descended into calling me Isabella yet, but I supposed it was only a matter of time. And though he was politeness incarnate, I couldn't ever answer him. His appearance made me breathless and lightheaded with something that I'd finally decided must be anger, and I could never find the right thing to say. Usually I'd just give him a quick brief, totally meaningless smile and nod. No words were best, I'd finally decided. I had nothing to say to Edward Cullen in the high school hallway with everyone watching.

The girls that were invariably with Edward would all smile and giggle at my behavior and as a result, my reputation as a socially awkward, hopelessly gauche mute grew. Nobody really understood why Edward still acknowledged me when I couldn't even manage a simple hello back to the school's popular, handsome Varsity football star and truthfully, neither could I.

It was hatred, I finally decided, as Edward turned sideways in his desk to smile at some simpering blond cheerleader wearing a skirt that Esme would never have approved of. I hated him. I hated every hair on his charmed head. I hated the easy, trusting way he talked to everyone. I hated how everyone loved him. And I hated most of all that I was somehow still part of that group, except that my membership secret—sometimes even from myself.

Geometry was boring, as usual, but even more so today because we were reviewing for the final, which was in a few days. There was only a week until school let out for summer and I felt that familiar excitement followed by the inevitable knowledge that even though it was summer, nothing would change.

Summers used to mean going to the beach house that was jointly owned by the Swans and the Cullens and days filled with sandcastles and ice cream and sunburns. Charlie and Carlisle drove up from the city and took long weekends, but Esme and Renee and us kids stayed at the beach the whole summer.

Edward and I had used to love those summers and mourned their passing with a fierce intensity. We always hated packing up the house and going back to school. With each year that passed, and with each little bit of distance between Edward and I, the summers had become progressively worse. Last summer, thankfully, he hadn't come to the house at all. He'd stayed in town, obstinately to spend extra time training for the football season, and had avoided coming to the beach at all, except for the Fourth of July weekend. Even that one long weekend had felt like interminable agony for me. Our years of high school had separated us so completely that being in the place of so many of our memories, yet unable to connect in the same way, had been horrible. I'd avoided him assiduously, and had tried to ignore the concerned expression on both Renee and Esme's faces.

I had a love/hate relationship with Edward's presence now and as the summer drew closer this year, I prayed that he wouldn't come again this year. Though I missed him when he wasn't around, it was just too hard for me when he was. I wanted to wrap myself in my memories and pretend he hadn't betrayed our friendship and pretending was impossible when he was around.

All my hopes had dissolved last night when I'd overheard my mom discussing the situation with my dad.

" . . .not sure what we should do about Bells and her issue with Edward. . ."

I hadn't been able to sleep and had finally decided that I'd get a glass of water from the kitchen downstairs. I'd been walking down the flight of stairs when Renee's words had hit me and I crept back into the darkness, and sat down on the top step to listen.

"Is it really that bad?" Charlie asked, sounding unconcerned. I smiled in relief. My dad was a smart guy and he'd convince my mom that all her worries were unfounded. Edward wouldn't be coming anyway—I was sure of it. If football had been important to him last year, it was doubly so this year. There was no way he would come to the beach when he could train in the city.

Renee sighed. "Don't you remember 4th of July last year? Oh, that's right. You spent nearly the whole weekend repairing the fence with Carlisle and drinking beer on the patio."

I could almost sense my dad opening his mouth to argue but my mom continued. "Don't bother. The fence needed to be done and you needed a break. All I'm trying to say is that you didn't notice that our dear daughter spent the entire weekend hiding in her room, refusing to participate in any activities because she was clearly avoiding Edward. She wouldn't even _speak _to him."

If I hadn't been eavesdropping, I would have argued hotly against her. I hadn't _hid _in my room. I'd just preferred being in there to being with everyone else—and Edward. And as for not speaking to him, couldn't she understand that I didn't speak to him because if I ignored him, there was no way he could ignore _me_?

"Maybe you should talk to her." Charlie was beginning to sound more concerned and I frowned. Why was everyone so worried anyhow? The most I'd have to tolerate with Edward around was a few weekends here and there.

"I should. I have to tell her he's coming anyway.''

I couldn't help myself; I gasped. Renee looked up from the cup of tea she was holding and I dashed up the stairs as she called up them, "Bells, is that you?"

Slamming the door shut, I launched myself onto my bed and grabbed and held tight the only stuffed animal I still permitted on my bed: a fat stuffed sheep that, ironically, had once been a birthday present from Edward.

I tried to steady my heart rate by breathing in and out slowly but it was useless. This was the culmination of my worst fears. Renee and Esme wouldn't permit me to hide out this year, and I'd have to wake up every morning and face _him_.

And is if on cue, there was a knock on the door. "I know you're up." Renee's voice was muffled but I could hear her 'no arguments' tone through the wood of the door.

Begrudgingly, I slid off the bed and opened the door for her, not once letting go of the sheep. It had always been one of my favorites, but in the last few years, it had become more like a reassuring comfort—proof that at one time Edward _had _cared.

My mom looked at me with an expression that radiated resignation rather than the sympathy I usually saw on her face when the subject of Edward came up. My mood worsened, if that was even possible. I stomped over to the bed and sat down, crossing my legs under me. I scowled, daring her to make the first move, which of course she did, because she was a mother.

She sat down next to me and just like I expected, began preaching right away. "Bella, I know you're angry at Edward, but it's been years. Maybe it's time to give it a rest and make up. At least be civil to him this summer."

"I _am _civil to him," I insisted. Nobody could prove otherwise, since I kept all my vituperative hatred bottled up. Mostly, anyway.

She gave me the "I know you're not telling me the truth and I'm going to break you" look, but I stayed strong, meeting her eyes stubbornly.

Finally, she sighed and looked down at the sheep in my arms. "I know you don't acknowledge him at school, even when he's polite enough to say hello to you."

It didn't surprise me at all that suddenly Edward had taken on saint-like qualities whereas I was relegated to ungrateful snob. This _was _Golden Boy Edward we were talking about. And for the record, I wanted to flog Alice or Rosalie for telling tales out of school.

"Um. I guess that might be what people think."

"Bella," Renee said and there was a wealth of disappointment in her voice. "He used to be your best friend. You were inseparable as children. You wouldn't even go to the store with me if Edward didn't come too."

"I don't want to hear it," I told her. In reality, I wanted to cover my ears and scream "no, no, no, no," over and over so I couldn't hear her words.

"Sometimes friends grow apart," she insisted, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Nothing to take personally; nothing to get upset over. "I'm sure that whatever differences you have with Edward can be sorted out this summer. I bet it's just a lot of miscommunication."

I wanted to scream at her that Edward turning his back on me had nothing to do with miscommunication and everything to do with plain fucking betrayal, but I bit my lip and stayed silent instead. There was no use in getting into it with her when she had so clearly decided to take Edward's side. Just like everyone else.

Renee stood up and dropped a single absent-minded kiss on the top of my head. "Time to go to sleep, sweetheart. School early tomorrow."

"Oh yeah, sure. Great," I said, barely biting the sarcasm but not quite accomplishing it.

I was half-expecting Renee to stop walking and turn back and give me a lecture on my tone of voice, but she let it go and closed the door softly behind her and I was left to my own hateful thoughts.

That night I couldn't sleep, and I stayed up very late with my arms wrapped hard around the sheep, staring dry-eyed at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with the idea that I'd be around Edward all summer.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for all the great reviews on chapter 1! To clarify, there's going to be an update a week on the first five chapters, which are already written. Then, there's going to be more updates, but they may take a bit longer. This "short" story was originally only supposed to be the five chapters but I fell in love (again) with these characters and there is just so much more of their story that I want to tell.**

*****UPDATED AN: In Putting Lessons, yes, Bella and Edward's age is put at 15. Here, they are 17. I had to up their ages to make my story work. Sorry guys! I know it's not consistent, but it had to be done.  
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**Thanks to my beta Tif, who rules.**

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EPOV

_One week later. . ._

I stared at the fire that my friends had built in celebration that the school year was finally over, and wondered why everyone was happy another year had slipped away. The bonfire was a tradition that apparently spanned back to their parents' high school days, but no matter how prestigious the occasion or the company, I couldn't seem to join in the party. Half of me wanted to, because these were supposed to be some of the best times of my life, and the other half, well, the other half wanted something I shouldn't.

I curled my fist tightly around the cold beer bottle, feeling the condensation leak through the paper wrapper and into my skin. Glancing around, I noticed that everyone had begun to pair off, the bodies growing closer together as the cool night air rushed in fast enough that the fading bonfire couldn't create enough residual heat.

Mike and Jessica were curled into each other in the bed of his truck, looking strangely innocent for what they were rumored to do in their spare time. I wondered for a brief, uncharacteristic moment if maybe they did love each other. My sister, Rosalie, and her boyfriend, Emmett were next, sitting with legs dangling on the edge of his Jeep Wrangler. Typically I would never have invited her to this sort of gathering, but once she had started dating Emmett, I'd lost my ability to say anything. Mostly, we tried to ignore each other and pretend that we couldn't see our sibling breaking about a million rules mere feet away.

At least that was what I always jokingly told her. I didn't want her to know that even if Emmett McCarty was mostly a standup guy, I wanted to knock his brains out every time he laid one finger on her, but those kinds of opinions wouldn't be very popular and Rosalie would never forgive me. So I stayed silent and tried to endure it as best as I could.

Various other couples were scattered around the edge of the ring of light that the fire provided. The atmosphere had quieted considerably, and I figured it was probably because everyone was tired and probably more than a little wasted. Occasionally, I'd hear a solitary giggle or the whack of an empty beer bottle as it hit the ground and I kept having to remind myself that right now, tonight, I was supposed to be on top of the world.

I'd be a senior in the fall, and for the last three years, I'd ruled the school both socially and on the football field and until now, it had been enough. But tonight, I was feeling strangely melancholy and strangely nostalgic.

Before I could stop myself, I imagined Bella sitting beside me on the trunk of my Volvo, but the image wouldn't gel in my mind. Bella would never be caught dead here, hanging out at a bonfire on the last day of school, drinking cheap beer that Emmett's older brother had bought.

On the other hand, though I couldn't picture here beside me tonight, I could picture her a million other ways. Bella and I had enough of a shared past that even if I used one precious memory for every minute of this infantile party, I'd never run out.

Usually, I wasn't this weak. Usually I could avoid thinking those sorts of thoughts. Usually I could steel myself against their onslaught and keep them hidden away so that I never had to unearth the guilt that always accompanied them, but tonight I seemed to be powerless against them.

I knew that I was having especial difficulty tonight because I was bored with the people who were supposed to be my friends and because bright and early tomorrow, the Swan and the Cullen families would decamp from the city and make the annual trek to the beach for the summer. Tomorrow was the first day of the three months I'd spent in close quarters with Bella.

I'd have done just about anything to avoid going to the beach this summer, but Esme had refused to let me out of it, saying that she wouldn't have many more summers with me. I supposed she was right, and as I couldn't deny my mother anything, I'd reluctantly agreed.

It wasn't until later that I realized Bella and I would be together again, every day. The beach house, though it was meant for two families, wasn't very large. In the past, we'd crammed in, not caring that we were close together physically because we were close mentally. Those days were long gone.

I shredded the paper wrapper of my beer and after I checked that nobody was watching me, I tipped a long drag of it onto the ground as unobtrusively as possible. I'd never really wanted to drink, but when I'd become part of the popular crowd my freshman year, I'd found the forbidden thrill exciting and novel. The first night I'd spend puking my guts out had changed my mind permanently. I found that I didn't mind the taste and that I enjoyed the buzz that a single beer gave me, but unlike everyone else, I didn't drink to get drunk. And I had no intention of doing it tonight.

"Edward," a drawling feminine voice slurred behind me and before I turned around to deal with the inevitable, I rolled my eyes. Some girls, like Bella, took every action too seriously. Other girls, like Tanya, didn't take any actions seriously enough.

At first, I'd tried to be tactful. Then I'd moved onto careful clichés, like "I'd much rather be your friend," to finally, in desperation, blunt and brutal honestly. None of the ways I'd tried to tell her that we were over and done with had worked so far. Unfortunately the whole school still thought we were seeing each other because she wouldn't fucking leave me be.

I wondered what would possess a girl to run away from a boy that missed her and I wondered, too, what would possess a girl to throw herself at a boy who hadn't wanted her in months. Sighing I turned towards Tanya, who was stumbling towards me, totally drunk off her ass and totally and typically helpless.

"Edward," she crooned again, in what she probably thought was an inviting voice. What Tanya didn't know that I wasn't like most of the other guys she knew, all of whom would probably jump at the chance to get her drunk and then naked. Truth was, I'd seen her naked before and I didn't exactly want to repeat the experience.

During spring break, we'd all come out to the bonfire site and Tanya had chugged beer after beer, apparently trying to give herself the seductive power she needed to finally do what she'd been failing at for six months: get me into bed. Unfortunately for her, the last thing I found sexually arousing was someone who was throwing up at my feet, even if they were naked. Tanya had been trying to "make it up to me" since that night, and though I'd told her dozens of times that I just wasn't interested, she had obviously decided to ignore me _again_.

"You wanna help me?" she asked again, stumbling over her words just as she stumbled over her feet. What kind of idiot, I thought as I watched her mince towards me, wore high heels to the woods?

Every molecule in my brain screamed out that the last thing I wanted was to have anything to do with her, but Esme had raised me to be a gentleman and the instinct was too ingrained so I nodded shortly, agreeing that I'd help.

I grabbed Tanya's arm just in time, as she swayed and came dangerously close to falling on her face. Esme would have been appalled that I'd had to fight the compulsion to just let her fall, but I'd learned in the last few months that humiliation didn't stop Tanya—it just made her fight harder to get what she wanted.

"Ooooh, thanks Edward. You're such a great guy," she mumbled as I began to help her into the passenger seat of the Volvo. I hadn't intended to go home before now, but with Tanya to take care of, it seemed my evening was over. I looked over at Rosalie, who was cuddling with Emmett, and we shared a look. Her expression was full of sympathy; she knew just how much I disliked Tanya and all the steps I'd taken to convince her of the same.

"We're leaving already?" Tanya asked, questioningly looking up at me from the seat of the car.

"Right now," I said, shutting the door with a decisive click and walking around to my side. And just like I'd figured, Tanya was already half in my seat by the time I opened the door. Sighing, I slid into the seat and carefully moved her back where she belonged—on her side of the car, not _on _me.

I started the car, pulling out of the bonfire site so hard that the Volvo sprayed dirt behind us. I was straight up pissed that again Tanya had managed to get us alone but I had zero intention of letting us continue in that state a second longer than we had to and if that meant breaking every traffic rule in Forks, then so be it.

Luckily, there were no cops on the route to Tanya's house. I nearly forcibly dragged her out of the car and to her front door, no longer feeling even the tiniest bit charitable after having to remove her hands from my thigh more than once in the less than five minute drive here.

I left Tanya on her doorstep, half-passed out, crying and begging for me to fuck her. Shaking my head a combination of pity and disgust, I rang the doorbell and hightailed it out of there before someone could open the door.

My tires squealed as I backed out of Tanya's driveway, but I slowed after I'd turned off her street. I'd been lucky on my way here, but the cops in Forks all knew me by name and Carlisle had threatened to take away my baby if I got one more speeding ticket. I'd tried arguing with him, saying that there was no point in driving a car like this if you didn't let it go every once in a while, but he'd simply shook his head and walked away. So I had to be good since I certainly had no intention of losing my transportation for this summer. I had a feeling that I'd be wanting to get away from the house more often than not.

Thinking about this summer brought Bella to mind again and I wanted to groan in frustration. Usually I was stronger than this, but tonight, the compulsion to just see her was beginning to wear down my self-control.

Five minutes later, without even being conscious of making a decision, I found myself turning onto Bella's street. The Swans, with just Bella, hadn't found it necessary to ever move out of their first house. With Alice, Rosalie, and myself, along with Carlisle's burgeoning medical practice, Esme had made the executive decision to move when I was 12. Bella and I had definitely begun to grow apart at that point, but I still resentfully believed that moving away had been the final nail in our coffin. From then on, I'd only seen her at school and that had never gone very well.

But I remembered with crystal clarity what we'd done on the last night of school every year before that. We'd stayed up really late, drinking cans of stolen Coke, and had always made all sorts of crazy and impossible plans for the summer to come. I guessed that maybe the bonfire I'd just been to was supposed to be a substitute for what I'd done with Bella, but it felt even more wrong than usual to make plans without her.

I parked a few houses down the street, knowing that the distinctive purr of the Volvo's engine would announce my presence to the Swan household. Renee and even Charlie would be thrilled to see me—opening the front door, and insisting that I come in to see them. They'd offer a can of Coke and some cookies and insist I tell them everything that had been going on in my life. Bella would only come downstairs if Renee insisted, yelling from the base of the stairs up towards her room, and then she would walk down reluctantly, distaste for me written all over her delicate features.

I couldn't bear any more of Bella's scorn, so I avoided the possibility and made sure that nobody knew I was even there. The soft rubber soles of my Converse slapped the pavement quietly as I walked towards the Swan house. It was still pristine white, because every other summer Charlie painted it with Carlisle's help, but the blue trim was faded into a dull slate. This house, for some reason, felt more like mine than my own. Or at least it had used to. Now it just felt like enemy territory in a weird war that I didn't quite understand.

Skirting the property line between the Swan house and my old house, I slipped into the front yard. Even though I hadn't been back this way in years, I still knew it well enough from the years I lived here that I was able to make it to the fence and let myself inside with a minimum of noise. Even though I was pretty sure that Chief Swan wouldn't arrest me for trespassing, I didn't want to have to come up with an excuse as to why I was creeping around his backyard.

I pushed open the door to the backyard as quietly as I could, but it either hadn't been used in awhile or Charlie had been too busy to oil the hinge because it screeched pretty loudly. Worried that someone had heard, I glanced up at the darkened windows of the house but nothing changed and so I continued into the yard, stepping carefully since it was dark and it had been a long time since I'd been here. Too long, I thought, as I looked up at the play structure that Charlie had erected when Bella and I turned five.

We'd spent a lot of time in the fort portion of the play structure, so much that we'd even personalized it into our own playroom. There were always toys up there and Charlie had even brought us a little fridge to keep juice and water and snacks. On the walls, we'd hung some of my drawings and copies of Bella's poems, her chicken scrawl barely readable in places. Though it had been years since I'd climbed the rickety ladder to the room where I'd spent much of childhood, I suddenly had an intense desire to see it again and see if any of it had changed.

Though it felt like I spent so much of my life running away from my past, I was apparently deciding to embrace it today and without even trying to argue with myself, I walked towards the ladder. Grasping the splintery wooden edges, I placed a foot on a rung and began to climb but before I could get more than halfway up, I heard the crunch of shoes on grass behind me and I froze.

"What are you doing here?" a voice hissed, low and more than a little angry.

I let out a sigh of relief. This wasn't exactly an optimal situation but at least I hadn't been caught red-handed by the Chief of Police.

I twisted my body around, still grasping the ladder and looked straight into Bella's eyes. "Just exploring," I told her as nonchalantly as I could.

"At one in the morning?" she asked incredulously.

I shrugged. I couldn't exactly tell her the truth. Besides, even if I did, she'd never believe me.

"You need to go," she insisted and the familiar bitterness had returned to her voice. For one brief moment I'd wondered if maybe under the cover of darkness and in our old haunt, we could have, just for a little while, buried the hatchet. But clearly Bella had no intention of _ever _letting go of any of the things that I'd done to hurt her, and I couldn't say I really blamed her. I'd been an ass, and if she was a bitch now, it was just fair and equitable.

Any other evening and I would have bowed to her wishes, the ever-familiar guilt building inside of me until I just capitulated, but tonight was different. I knew I couldn't leave until I saw what had become of a place that we'd both loved so much—and a place where we'd both loved each other.

It was sentimental and maybe just a tiny bit weak, but I had to see it. I had to prove to myself that maybe there hadn't been all this other crap between us. That at one point, Bella had been the only person I ever wanted to see, but if I tried to explain it to her now, she'd only sneer and laugh in that angry, bitter way she did now. Before, Bella's laugh had been like a bell, clear and true. I'd twisted it with what I'd done and every time I heard her laugh now, I felt sick with guilt. _I'd _done this; I'd created this girl with the sad eyes in front of me.

But I stood firm, regardless of the remorse and shame flooding me. "I came to see the tree house," I told her, "and I intend to see it." And then I turned back towards the ladder and continued climbing, even though I could sense the irritation radiating off her in waves.

Then I heard her sigh and I felt the ladder give and creak as she joined me. I reached the top run and climbed through the small opening. The last time I'd been in here had been four or so years ago, long before my growth spurt and though the ceiling had been a tight fit then, now there was no way I could even begin to stand up straight. I crouched down low and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I felt my throat tighten.

She had changed nothing.

The edges of the papers on the walls were curled and some of them looked like they would crumble to pieces if touched, but clearly they weren't ever handled. I rarely ever drew anymore, but seeing all my old drawings, even the rough sketches made by a kid, brought all the old desire back. I reached out a finger to trace the pencil strokes of a sketch of Bella, one of the many that were on the walls.

"Don't touch that!" she exclaimed from behind me. I turned and watched she climbed inside the room and she went over towards the drawing and minutely examined it, checking I guess to make sure I hadn't done anything to damage it. She glared at me after she finished, but I got the feeling that her expression had more to do with her concern over the sketch than her usual hatred and my heart lightened a little. And if I thought it was odd that she was so solicitous over one of my drawings, I didn't mention it.

"Do you come here often?" I asked, all the while noting her care of the wall coverings and that the floor was meticulously free of dust and dirt. The fridge hummed away and I knew what her answer would be before I even asked—and that her answer was going to be an awkward lie.

I wasn't wrong. Bella hesitated for a long moment, her eyes dropping to the floor. Finally, she answered, and her voice had just the exact tone it had always had when she was lying. "Never," she said. "I haven't been up here in years."

I knew that I could have called her on it, but that would only make her angry, and while she had that sullen look on her beautiful face still, there was less anger charging the air around us than usual, and I kind of wanted to keep it that way. So I kept my mouth shut and instead went back to looking at the mutual history that covered the walls. Bella wasn't a great liar and eventually her guilt would get the better of her, and she'd tell me the truth.

Just like I'd figured, about a minute later, I heard her feet shuffle towards me, and her voice said hesitatingly, "Edward?"

I turned toward her and was surprised at how close she was to me. To touch her, all I'd have to do was extend my hand a little and I could brush the ends of her long brown hair.

"What is it?" I asked, my voice brusque to hide all of the feelings that came rushing back like they'd never been repressed.

She shrugged, her thin shoulders sliding against the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Bella had always been small, but now, with me really looking at her for the first time in what felt like years, I was shocked at how thin she truly was. Her arms still resembled a pair of bleached sticks and she'd probably never lose that gangly look she'd always had despite being short, but now, suddenly, she wasn't all angles. Bella, I mused—noticing more than I should—had grown curves.

The idea that Bella had grown up hit me like a 2 x 4 to the face. I'd spent much of my own puberty forcing myself to think of her as a sexless child, but now that was ultimately impossible. My eyes had been officially and completely opened by the evidence in front of me and I realized that it would be impossible to ever return her to that comfortable, safe place in my own mind. And just like that, the guilt pressing up against my breastbone tripled.

But still, I let my gaze drift down the navy t-shirt and to the short plaid boxers she wore. I vaguely remembered that Esme had mentioned Bella taking up running during her free time, and I could see the development of her muscles in her pale-skinned legs. I raised my eyes to her face, with her intense brown stare and the lush waves of brown hair that tumbled around her shoulders and not for the first time I wished fervently that I didn't find Bella _quite _this beautiful.

She sighed, her ribcage moving against her shirt, and though the action was far from provocative, my pants were instantly tighter and I glanced away, embarrassed that I couldn't even control myself when the girl in front of me breathed in and out.

"I lied to you," she confessed. "I come here all the time."

"I noticed."

"It's silly. A crutch," Bella said and I got the feeling that this was a huge admission for her because of the way the words reluctantly left her lips. She would much rather not have had to explain at all, but strangely, she apparently thought she owed me an explanation.

"It's in your backyard. If I had this here, I'd come here too."

"I suppose." She didn't exactly sound convinced and I should have known she wouldn't believe me. She'd apparently forgotten who I really was and had bought, along with everyone else, _the _Edward Cullen. At first it had been so much fun to be this popular, mysterious persona that the entire school wanted a piece of. Lately though, I'd been craving someone who knew what I was really like and I'd been wondering if Bella remembered.

"Really," I said with as much believable charm as I could muster. "It's a wonderful place. Full of good memories." That really made Bella do a double take. Now she was just looking at me like I'd lost my mind.

"I don't get it," she finally said. "You have _everything_. Why on earth would you look back on this?" The old bitterness had returned to her voice, joined by its best friend, resentment.

I shrugged. "Sometimes the grass is greener on the other side, Bella."

And just like that, Bella's face totally closed. "I'm done talking to you," she said, though her expression had already said it all. She was angry with me, just like always, and this brief moment of honesty had ended, but I couldn't help but feel that maybe we'd made some progress. After all, we'd almost had a friendly conversation—on my side, at least.

"I'd better be going," I told her. "We're leaving early tomorrow." Bella grimaced, like she'd just remembered what tomorrow was.

I took the few steps towards the ladder and began to descend. "See you tomorrow then," I said cheerfully as she stared at the sight of me slowly disappearing. She said nothing. Not that I expected much differently, but as I walked back to my car, I felt hope for the first time in a long time. Maybe Bella didn't hate me for what I'd done, even if I deserved it.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks for all the great reviews--they're what prompted me to update this a day early. So review review review!**

**Thanks to Tif for being an awesome beta.**

**Also, everyone should read EZRocksAngel's story for her auction winner, Imperfect Contrition. It's fucking fabulous.**

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BPOV

The next morning, I was exhausted, physically and emotionally, and the day was just beginning. Each year it seemed that Renee needed to take more to the beach and this year was no exception. Our SUV was packed full, even though it was really just the two of us. Without thinking, as I lugged what seemed like the fiftieth load to the car, I asked Renee how Esme was going to manage. We Swan women were fairly low-maintenance in comparison to the Cullens, especially Alice and Rosalie, and no doubt they'd have at least ten suitcases apiece. Lately, even though she was only 16, Alice had been refusing to go anywhere without what seemed like her entire wardrobe.

"Edward's taking his Volvo," she answered, and I noticed the brief second of hesitation before she mentioned his name as well as the concerned look in her eyes.

Renee wasn't the only one who was treading carefully around the subject of Edward this morning. Truthfully, I couldn't even figure out what I thought of him anymore. The matter had been pretty cut and dried before last night, but then, everything had changed.

I'd walked out to the treehouse like I did most nights when I couldn't sleep, and like a vision plucked from my fantasies, Edward was there, in my yard, on the ladder leading to our special place. Except this time he wasn't a gangly boy of eleven—he was the fully grown, estrogen overload-inducing, muscular sixteen year old that the entire female half of the school worshipped.

My heart had skidded to a near stop, and I almost couldn't get his name out from between my suddenly numb lips, but I'd managed and to my utter shock, I didn't stutter or stumble. With Edward in _my _backyard and right in the middle of a place that held so many positive memories, I'd found myself almost letting down the wall that separated us.

Almost.

In fact, I thought as I watched Forks disappear behind us, I'd handled myself better than I could have even imagined. I hadn't been outright rude or downright awkward, but still reserved enough that he knew that his general behavior was totally unacceptable. I'd acted about as well as I could possibly expect from myself where Edward was concerned.

On the other hand, Edward had been just about as confusing as ever. I hugged my knees and wondered why I hadn't thought to ask him why he wanted to see _my _treehouse. Once I'd definitely thought of it as communal property, to be shared between us, like we shared everything, but I'd long since mentally annexed it. I turned our conversation over and over in my mind as we sped towards Cannon Beach trying to find the reason why Edward had seemed so determined and why he hadn't been totally adverse to my company. He hadn't exactly been friendly—but he hadn't pushed me away either—and if it was even possible, the anger that boiled inside me grew.

Three hours later when we arrived, my legs were stiff, I had a headache from overthinking and I was even more exhausted than before. Renee pulled to a stop and I opened the passenger door and hopped out, and before I could think to grab the handle on the door to stop myself, my feet slipped on the loose gravel of the driveway.

I'd been clumsy most of my life, and in the five seconds I had before I totally lost my balance and went sprawling, I resigned myself to my fate. If I struggled, I'd only wipe out worse.

But before I could, I felt a strong arm reach out and hold me up. My flip flops finally found the traction they'd been looking for and I regained my balance. Before I could even look up to thank him, I knew it was Edward. Nobody else's grip was firm and strong but gentle on my skin and though I knew he didn't wear cologne since he was incredibly allergic, there was always something distinctive about the way he smelled. I could have picked Edward out of a crowd of 500 men just by the way his hands felt and the way my nose tingled whenever he was near. Besides, nobody else knew quite like Edward my penchant for clumsiness. He'd used to tease me that I nearly attracted accidents, like a moth to a flame.

"Be careful," he said, making sure I was steady before he released me. I opened my mouth to thank him, looking up for the first time in so long into his green eyes. They'd always been beautiful, ever since he was a boy, but this was the closest we'd been in years—since we'd entered high school, in fact. I'd watched many, _many _girls over the last two years latch onto him, but as I stood there and let myself gaze into those deep emerald pools, I told myself that if he looked down at them with the same fiery intensity, then I totally understood why so many of them couldn't get over him. His gaze was hot and it seemed to scorch the air around me until there was none left to breathe and I was reduced to short gasps. My heart rate had accelerated out of control and then I felt it.

Edward's hand tightened almost imperceptibly around my arm and he pulled me towards him almost imperceptibly. I tried to tell myself that the tender expression on his face was only nostalgia for an old friend, but deep down, way down in the core of my being, I knew that it was not platonic. Edward, I thought with a surge of incredible triumph, wanted me. Perhaps only in this one moment, but that didn't matter. Once was enough.

I imagined him pushing me back against the van and then his mouth covering mine, hot and eager, and his free hand pushing under my shirt until it rested across my spine, his calloused fingers soft on my skin.

His head moved toward mine, and I knew my fantasy was about to come true. Finally, I would be able to answer all those burning questions that kept me up at night. But before our lips could touch, before I could even be sure that he really _was _going to kiss me, Edward's expression suddenly changed and before I could even ask him what was wrong, he'd dropped my arm and backed away, eyeing me like an alcoholic watches a bottle of booze.

Then he was gone, his shoes crunching the gravel as he walked—no ,_ ran_—to the back of the SUV to help Renee with the first load of supplies.

My breath caught in my throat and I bit my lip, and tried to will the hurt back into its tight little box with the pesky lock. But the pain kept expanding, magnified by the commonplace way he'd just dismissed me. He'd _run away_, I thought to myself, the indignity of it rushing through me like a tsunami. He'd seen the kiss coming, and he'd pulled away instead of letting it happen. My throat burned with unshed tears, but I held my head up high and gave him my most disparaging glare when he came back into sight. I wouldn't let him see how much he'd hurt me. But it wouldn't have mattered. He purposefully kept his eyes down, on the driveway, and wouldn't even glance in my direction.

Even when he'd abandoned me in middle school I hadn't felt so wretched, but I swallowed the pain and tried to plaster a smile on my face.

"You okay Bella?" Renee came around the car, a concerned look on her face.

I nodded sharply. "I'm fine. Just a little slip."

"Good thing Edward was there," she said, carelessly heaping more coals onto my already burning shame. It had seemed like heaven at the time, but now I wished that Edward had just let me fall. I would have preferred digging gravel out of my skinned knees than his rejection.

Luckily, for the next few hours Renee and Esme kept me busy and my tasks kept me far from Edward. I didn't want to dwell on what had happened between us, but I couldn't seem to help myself. Between last night and what had so very nearly happened earlier, I was barely able to stay coherent.

At dinner, I couldn't help yawning every minute or so, and every time, I always glanced at Edward to make sure he wouldn't say anything about why I seemed so tired. But again he refused to even look my direction, and it was so unlike his ever-polite self that throughout the meal I felt the anger inside me rising exponentially.

At first, I'd been hurt by his rejection, but now I was just plain angry. How dare he, I thought to myself, as I helped Esme wash the dishes. I wasn't ugly or smelly or gross. I was _Bella, _who he'd known for fucking years. Since we were babies. Would it have fucking killed him to be nice for once in his post-puberty life?

By the time I'd finished with the dishes, my temper had only grown hotter and hotter until it felt like it was bubbling out of control, sneaking up my throat, ready to jump on the very next person who crossed my path, even if it wasn't Edward. So I escaped outside, throwing the screen door open and taking deep breaths of the clean fresh air.

It was just dusk, dunes were alight with the fire of the setting sun, and I settled down on the first step of the porch, resting my head on my knees. It was quiet and, for the first time since I'd arrived, I felt like I could take a deep breath.

I had only managed to take one when I heard the screen door squeak open and then slam shut behind me. I should have known, I inwardly groaned, that I wouldn't be left alone for more than five seconds at a time. I must have temporarily lost my mind when I thought that there could be any privacy in this god damned house. Turning my body slightly, I opened my eyes against the blinding light of the setting sun and looked right into the face of the person I least wanted to see.

Edward's expression immediately shuttered closed when he saw me, and my anger, which had just began to calm, roared to life inside me. _How dare he_, I thought to myself, the fury threatening to choke me.

He turned to go without saying a single fucking word and with that single action, the dam of four years broke. All my carefully erected defenses, all the polite behavior that Esme and Renee drilled into me, the years of cultivated disinterest, it all imploded inside of me and before I could even stop myself I was on my feet, facing him straight on.

"Too disgusted to even share a porch with me," I sneered at him, and I couldn't even believe the way my voice sounded to my own ears. I'd never even dreamed of talking this way—even to Edward.

If I was shocked at my own reaction, Edward was flabbergasted. His jaw dropped a little, and I could almost see my own fury mirrored in his surprised face.

"Bella," he said cautiously, "I. . .um. . . .it just looked like you wanted to be left alone."

"I did," I raged at him, letting my voice hit a new octave. "But you're just so god damned distant."

Edward said nothing, just looked at the ground. In all the years I'd known him, I'd never seen him spend so much time looking down. Usually Edward was the confident, forward one. Usually he was the one saying all the words. But not today.

"I hate you," I added bitterly, and his head jerked upwards and I could see the hurt and anger warring on his face. He obviously wanted to unload his own baggage, but he stayed silent.

I decided that I wanted to have the satisfaction of breaking all that. I wanted him just as fucking pissed off as I was.

Deliberately, I altered my expression into the nastiest one in my arsenal. "You're such a fucking asshole, Edward. Pretending that you're so much better than me—better than everyone. But you're just the same."

My words hit him almost like physical blows and I watched as his fists clenched together at his sides. Clearly, he wanted to attack me just as much I wanted to attack him, but again those stupid manners were still holding him back. I wondered if I was a man he'd have let himself go.

"Are you done yet?" he asked, his voice dangerously low and soft and I recognized the last stage before he totally lost his temper.

"Absolutely not. You think that somehow saying 'hi' to me in the hall makes up for _anything_? I wouldn't talk to you if you were the last person on the earth."

Edward broke. "That's a god damned lie," he yelled, his face turning an unattractive shade of puce. "You're fucking _dying _to have me say hi to you."

That stung, but the same comment that would have sent me to my stuffed cow with tears streaming out of my eyes now just fed the fire of my anger.

"Yeah if that's the truth, then why do I _never _say hi to you back?"

"Damned if I know, but you're the most fucking frustrating girl I have ever met in my entire god damned life. And you wonder why we aren't friends anymore."

"Obviously you don't miss me," I shot back, "you've got the rest of the girls to fuck."

Edward's face melted from red to pale, bleached white. I think I even saw his teeth clench with the last insult I'd just doled out. "At least I'm not _afraid _of the opposite sex," he hissed, and then, just like that, I knew that I was.

I was god damned terrified and I hated that Edward knew my deepest, darkest secret. Of course I wanted him to talk to me, and when he didn't, I tried to reject him so that I wouldn't feel so utterly alone. But added to that, I was scared out of my fucking mind. And he knew.

The wind fell out of my sails, and I knew that Edward was watching me deflate and I couldn't do a thing to stop it. Tears began to threaten in my eyes and I had never wanted to run away more in my entire life, but I held my ground. More than ever, I didn't want Edward to know how right he was.

But it was too late, my sudden, hurt silence had already told him everything that he needed to know, and I waited for him to smile triumphantly and rub it in, but he didn't. Instead, he turned back around and stormed back into the house and not a minute later, with me still frozen to the porch, I heard his Volvo engine roar to life and he drove off in a noisy spray of gravel. And then, in the darkening light of the sun, I finally let myself cry.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks for all the fantastic reviews for ch 3! A lot of you are also thrilled I have decided to continue--and to that I only have to say "WOO HOO!"**

**Also, the readers who are leaving some of their own stories, that is so neat. I love hearing them!**

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BPOV

For the next week, I barely saw Edward. I knew I was avoiding him, but I couldn't seem to help myself. Every time I thought about the things I'd screamed at him, I felt sick to my stomach. Now, I thought in the dark reaches of the night, he'd think I hated him. And not just the same way I'd hated him before—now he'd think I _really _hated him.

So I spent a lot of time alone, partially to help me avoid the burn of shame and also because I wouldn't even know how to react if I had to face him. Edward seemed to be avoiding me too, and though I didn't know exactly why, it was easy to guess. No doubt the hateful way I'd behaved had something to do with it.

By the end of the week, I knew that Renee and Esme were both worried. Neither of them were very good actresses, and concern was transparently written all over their faces. In addition, they'd often have hushed conversations that ended the moment I walked into the room. Finally, a week to the day from when we'd arrived at the beach and Edward and I had blown up at each other, Renee cornered me in the room I shared with Alice and Rose.

"Bella, please tell me what's going on between you and Edward." She crossed her arms across her chest and gave me one of the firmest, most determined looks in her entire arsenal of motherly expressions.

For about a split second, I considered trying to deny it, but I saw Renee's gaze narrow and I knew it was no use. I'd just piss her off more if I didn't admit to something this obvious.

I shrugged, trying to play it off cool and casual, like Edward and I purposefully avoiding being in the same room together for a week straight was no big deal. "Um, yeah, we might have had a disagreement."

Renee looked at me harder, clearly not buying the vibe I'd attempted. "Regardless of your inability to see eye to eye for _several _years now, you and Edward have never avoided each other like this. Somehow I doubt it was merely a 'disagreement.'"

She was right. Though we'd had our own issues over the last few years, Edward and I had never really _fought_. We'd both held all our feelings inside—at least I had. I'd been completely pissed off at him for years now, but I'd been so afraid of scaring him away, of driving that final wedge between us that I'd stayed silent, letting that anger bubble and boil away inside. Last week I'd finally had enough and, for just that moment, I hadn't cared if my words were enough to make him hate me.

But of course, I _did _care. Truth was, I cared too much. Even though it had felt damn good at the time, now I felt like I'd taken one step too far and there was no rewind button. A tiny voice inside my head told me that apologizing might be a good place to start, but the truth was, I was still more than a little angry that he'd pulled away from kissing me. No, I was more than angry. I was more than pissed off. He'd humiliated me completely and totally and I was still fucking furious. But I was also afraid—afraid that I'd said one thing too many.

That fear made me clam up in front of Renee. I couldn't open my mouth and confess to her that I'd possibly driven away the most important friend I'd ever had.

Renee was a mother though, and somehow she knew that there was something deeper that I couldn't actually say. She nodded sympathetically and drew me into a big hug.

"Apologies, sweetie," she said as she brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen from my ponytail, "may seem simple, but can mean the world to someone."

I pulled away from her loving embrace just a little so I could look her directly in the eyes. "I can't apologize to Edward," I protested, sensing that the sick feeling at the base of my stomach was about to return.

"Why not?"

How could I possibly tell my mother that it would be humiliating in the extreme to have to face Edward and only have him reject me yet again? I'd done enough offering and he'd done enough rejecting to last me awhile. So I just stayed silent, avoiding looking into her eyes. Finally, she sighed and I surmised she was giving up.

Before she could decide there was more to say, I grabbed my running shoes and as I slipped out the door I yelled out, "Going for a run, be back soon!"

This was the first summer since I'd developed a hobby of running in the evenings, and I found that I especially loved the burn as my feet pounded the sand.

Once on the porch, the scene of my fight with Edward, I tied my shoes and hurriedly went through my stretches, trying to ignore those twinges of guilt that just wouldn't subside. Though the days were already much longer, I could already see the sun beginning to set behind the dunes as I took off jogging at a slow pace and I told myself that I'd try to keep my run shorter. Running here was different than running in my neighborhood at home. There were different people on the beach every night, and far too many strangers for me to feel comfortable staying out past dark.

But I was increasingly preoccupied tonight with what Renee had said and with mental reenactments of my fight with Edward. Before I even realized how far I'd gone or how late it was, the sun had begun to set, sending a sudden chill sweeping down my sweat-soaked neck.

I glanced around my surroundings and knew I had gone too far. It would be full dark by the time I reached the beach house. I turned around immediately and headed back. The coolness of the night air combined with my apprehension and I began to shiver, almost uncontrollably. I'd never been good at controlling my physical reactions and tonight, I thought ruefully, was no exception as I ordered myself to stop pointlessly freaking out. I would be fine. I _had _to be fine.

At first, all I saw were families folding up their umbrellas and repacking coolers with empty cans of soda and wrappers from sandwiches bought from the deli in town, but as it grew progressively darker, I saw more and more bonfires being lit, and kegs being hauled down rickety wooden steps towards the water. My apprehension grew as I saw the beach slowly being invaded by a totally different breed—the young, drunk and belligerent twenty something male.

Reassuringly, I told myself that I was not exactly attention-grabbing under the best of circumstances and with my sweat stained t-shirt and athletic shorts I definitely wouldn't merit a second glance. But I couldn't deny that my heart hammering out of control had nothing to do with my workout and everything to do with the fear of my vulnerability.

I pressed on, forcing my tired legs to move faster than they really liked, and I knew the next morning I'd definitely be sore, but I decided that would be better than being attacked or raped or . . ._worse_.

I saw them from a distance at first, and I tried to pretend that this was a group like any other that I'd passed, but I knew I was lying to myself. Unlike all the other groups, they were loud already. It was possible they'd started drinking before ever making it to the beach, because at this point, they were clearly already drunk. I could hear it in their rough, loose voices. And even worse, I thought with my heart sinking to the base of my stomach, there were no girls with them. Of all the other crowds gathered around bonfires that I'd seen this was the only group with just men.

They looked big even from a distance, almost larger than life, their faces almost maniacal in the dancing firelight, and I quickly glanced around, hoping I'd see _anyone _else around, but the beach was empty in either direction. It was just me and . . .them.

There was no way to avoid running right past them, so I skirted the edge of the water, feeling the difference between the dry and the wet sand. They might think, if they were still coherent enough, that I was avoiding them, but I hoped that they just wouldn't notice me at all.

Of course, I was wrong. As soon as I got close enough to make out the details of their faces, I glanced over at them as unobtrusively as possible, hoping that they'd be totally engrossed with their own stupid drunken antics. Sick fear congealed inside of me like old bacon grease as I saw that instead of ignoring me, they were all _watching _me with beady, questioning gazes.

Quickly I looked down at the sand and began to pray in my head that they would just leave me alone. I thought about running away, but discarded that idea almost instantaneously because not only were they bigger and stronger and had fresh legs, my running away would only incite whatever madness they had in mind.

They waited until I was almost past them, until I was almost sure that I was out of danger. That was when I heard the wet sand crunching as someone jogged up behind me.

"Hey girl," the man asked, his words slurring together and I wanted to cry. He sounded even drunker than I'd thought they were. Too drunk to care about things like consequences.

I kept running, hoping that by ignoring him he'd leave, but by now, I knew that it wouldn't happen. Then, I felt his arm grab my hand and though I tried to shake him off, he was still strong. Impossibly strong. He whirled me around to face him with a sickening lurch and immediately I smelled the booze on his breath.

"I said 'hey,'" he countered and he seemed angry that I'd ignored him. Slowly I realized that all the other men from the bonfire had joined him near the edge of the water. Before I'd thought that something bad was a slight possibility, but I'd also been sure with the invincibility of a teenager that nothing bad was _really _going to happen. Now it seemed with a certainty that I'd been totally and completely wrong and that my safety was in definite jeopardy.

I stayed silent, knowing that nothing I could say would possibly convince them to let me go. They circled around me and my captor, like predatory buzzards looking for their next meal. I knew there was no way I could avoid the inevitable now. Closing my eyes, I prayed that it would at least be over soon and that they'd let me go afterwards.

I felt another hand grab me and whoever it was didn't even recoil from the feel of my sweaty skin. I didn't even bother struggling. In despair, I decided that it would only make them angrier and then they might hurt me worse.

As I felt myself slip further away from the moment, I heard what could only have been Edward's voice, yelling my name. But the sound was tiny and impossibly far away. I decided that I must be imagining things now, _anything _to take my mind off what was about to happen.

My knees gave out, and I would have sagged to the ground if I wasn't being held up. A sharp wrench of pain echoed through my scalp as another attacker grabbed my ponytail and jerked me upwards, so I could look into his dark crazed eyes. It was then I realized that it didn't matter if they were drunk or not—they would have done this anyway. They were evil men and they were _enjoying _this.

Blackness threatened to envelop me again, but then I heard Edward's voice yet again. I focused on it, and let the warmth of his mental presence seep through me. It was only then that I realized I couldn't go out like this. I couldn't let them just do whatever they wanted with me without even trying to fight. I had to make one effort to get away—and not even just to get away. I had to show them that I hated them, that I would do anything to prevent what they were about to do to me.

I took a short deep breath and glanced upwards, deciding which of my assailants that I'd take my anger out on first. Taking him by surprise, I jabbed my knee upwards at the man to my right. It hit his crotch dead on, and he doubled over, swearing in anger and pain.

Before any of the other men could figure out what I had just happened, I blindly kicked at the man behind me and by his shriek of pain I hoped that I'd nailed him right in the shin. I tried to jerk my arm away from the man holding it, but he simply looked down at me, with anger and gritty, steely determination in his gaze and then I knew, it didn't matter how much I fought. I wouldn't get away. My eyes sunk again to the sand and I stilled.

I heard Edward again and I desperately tried to focus on the sound of his voice as I felt someone's hand connect to my jaw, jerking it back. My face exploded with pain and I thought I felt blood dropping down my chin, but I couldn't bear to open my eyes and see for sure.

_Edward_, I thought with despair as another fist hit my side and I bent in agony at the throbbing in my ribs. And like the voice from my dream, I heard him again. Except this time he wasn't shouting my name and he sounded angry—angrier than I'd ever heard before.

I felt the men let go of me and I collapsed to the ground. Barely, I managed to look up and I couldn't believe the scene in front of me.

Edward stood there, panting hard, his hands balled into fists, as he screamed at the men that the police were on their way. And unbelievably, they believed him and splintered, running in a dozen separate directions.

Unsteadily, I willed my knees to work and I tried to raise myself. "Bella," Edward said, rushing towards me, and cradling me in his arms. "We have to go. As fast as we can. Before they realize I was lying."

Fear curdled in my stomach as I recognized that they could come back. Edward must have sensed the stiffening of my muscles because he murmured reassuringly. "If they come back, I swear they will not lay one more finger on you." His voice was determined but kind and caring and so much like the Edward I'd used to know that I almost burst into tears.

But there was no time to fall apart now. I knew I had to get out of here with Edward before the men came back to finish what they'd started. Even though Edward was young and strong there were too many of them and I couldn't bear that the thought that they'd hurt him too.

Hesitatingly, and with Edward's support, I managed to start to walk. "Ugh," I moaned as my bruised ribs start to protest at the movement.

"It's okay, Bella," he told me again reassuringly, "just a little while longer."

With him nearly carrying me and whispering encouragingly into my ear, we managed to make it back to the beach house. I collapsed onto the porch step and though I'd been determined to hold them back, tears began to trickle down my cheeks.

Edward put a hand on my shoulder and I could hear the worry in his voice. "I'll be right back Bells, I've just got to get you some ice for your. . .face."

It was only then that I remembered my jaw and carefully I raised a hand to the throbbing in my face.

"It's going to be bruised," Edward said, "but I don't think they've broken anything." He sounded profoundly grateful and I sank back into the step with a sigh of relief.

The screen door banged behind Edward as he went into the house to get the ice. He came back outside only moments later with a bag of frozen peas. I saw it and tried to smile, but it hurt too much so I just took the bag from him and tried to hold it to my jaw, but my hands were trembling too violently.

"Here, let me," Edward said, taking the bag away from me as he settled down on the step next to me. Gently he placed the icy bag on my aching cheek and I hesitatingly rested my head against his shoulder.

We were silent for a long time. I wondered how he'd come to find me there, but I wouldn't let myself think of the possibility that he hadn't. The experience was still too raw and too fresh.

Finally, Edward spoke and again, his voice so much like that of the boy I'd once known that I just cried harder. "Are you okay, Bells?"

I tried to take a deep breath to stop the sobs as I thought about it. There was still some fear pumping through my system, but the majority of it had dissipated. My face was already feeling much better, though I knew it would probably be a million nasty colors by tomorrow. I gingerly felt my ribs and though they were sore, I was pretty sure that they weren't broken. Overall, I decided, I could be so much worse.

"I'm . . .I'm okay," I stuttered, my throat thick with tears. I paused, wondering how you could possibly thank someone for saving your life and how you could even begin to thank someone for saving your life that you'd screamed hatefully at only a week before.

I decided that there were really only two words that I could use that could possibly express to him how I felt.

"Thank you, Edward," I whispered. "Thank you."

The arm that was draped over my still-shivering shoulders pulled me closer. He turned towards me and looked directly into my eyes. "Bella, you know that I would never let you be hurt. I hate that they did even this to you."

I shrugged a little. "You came in time, that's all that matters."

"Still," he said, shaking his head, "I wish I could have been there sooner. I should have been there sooner." His voice grew angry and I knew that he blamed himself, but I couldn't bear that.

"Edward, it isn't your fault. Those men were crazy. You saved me."

He didn't say anything and the words still continued to tumble out of my mouth, before I could even stop to think about them. "And Edward, I am so sorry about last week. I should never have said those things to you."

He chuckled and the sound was harsh in the quiet night air. "I've been an ass, Bells. You don't have to apologize."

"But I want to," I insisted. "Please let me. Please forgive me."

Edward sighed. "I forgave you the moment I left the house. Maybe even before that."

I wouldn't have believed him if he hadn't sounded so resigned and sure. Besides, Edward never lied. Even when I wouldn't like the answer, he'd always told me the truth.

"Then why have you been avoiding me?" I asked, confused. I placed my hand over his on the package of green peas so I could take it from him and move it to a place that hadn't been iced properly yet. He jumped as if I'd shocked him and dropped the bag into my hand.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I. . .I wish I had a good explanation for that. It was wrong of me, Bella. And I'm sorry. Forgive _me_?"

He smiled so winsomely at me then that I couldn't help it. Then I knew that I'd forgiven him too, long before he asked, and just like magic, all the anger inside me evaporated. And just like that it was just the two of us on the porch—a girl, a boy, a bruised jaw and a bag of frozen peas.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Again, thanks for the awesome reviews. All of them touched me in one way or another. This story is so close to me by now, I can't even tell how how much. Anyway, this is the last chapter that I have WRITTEN (so that means that it's likely the weekly updates will be a bit farther apart), but NOT the last chapter in the story. There will be more, I promise. Lots of sexual exploration and some misunderstandings and lots of fun. I think I'm going to take it all the way through the summer and into the first part of school.**

**Thanks to my great beta, Tif, and to EE, who has been so encouraging through this whole journey and ALSO, most importantly to Mommyofboth, for whom this was written. Without her, it probably would have never been written. She also did a great job catching some age errors and also suggested a few important changes at the end of this chapter.**

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BPOV

We sat on the porch for hours after the attack. I couldn't bear to go inside and tell Esme and Renee what had happened until I was totally calm. Edward was impossibly patient and just sat there next to me, making me laugh until my breathing steadied. I wondered briefly if his behavior was only because of the attack, but I refused to even let myself consider the possibility. I told myself that he had changed, that we had crossed over some sort of bridge and it was now impossible to go back. And when I rested my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped one warm muscular arm around me, I couldn't help but speculate that maybe, incredibly, Edward felt the same way about me that I felt about him.

Edward insisted, of course, that I go to the police station and report the attack. When we'd finally gone inside and told Esme and Renee, they'd sided with Edward. Finally, I'd agreed, but only with the stipulation that he accompany me. I didn't want to go alone.

When I said that, Edward had looked at me like I'd temporarily lost my mind.

"Why wouldn't I go with you, Bella?" he'd questioned with surprise in his voice. I blushed and desperately wished I could drop through the floor. I hardly wanted to draw attention to the last few years of anger and resentment. Renee must have sensed my embarrassment because she promptly changed the subject by shooing me off to bed.

"You must be exhausted," she said as she nearly dragged me up the staircase. When I had almost reached the top, I glanced back over my shoulder only to see that Edward was still looking at me, intently. There was something similar in his expression, something that reminded me so much of our almost-kiss of a week ago, that I nearly tore my hand out of Renee's and flung myself down the stairs. But I didn't. I just smiled shyly and looked away.

I was right; something _was_ irrevocably different.

The next morning, Edward drove me to the tiny police station in town. He was still incredibly attentive and sweet, even helping me out of the car and holding open the door to the brick building. He was so solicitous, in fact, that I didn't know what to make of his actions. Why, I wondered, would he treat me for so many years like he hated my guts and then _now _decide that he wanted to be nice?

I puzzled Edward's actions all through my interview with the police. I even found that thinking of him made it easier to recite to them what I'd been through the night before. Edward helped me to describe the men, though the truth was there hadn't been anything particular special about the way the men looked.

The police reassured us they'd do their best to find the culprits, but when we left the station I felt strangely despondent. I was sure that they'd have trouble bringing anyone to justice because I'd been unable to provide anything more than just rudimentary descriptions. The truth was I'd been too afraid to even look any of them in the eye. I hadn't even considered the possibility that I'd have to identify them later.

Edward and I drove back to the house in silence. Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was only minutes, he pulled up to the driveway and turned off the engine. I hurriedly opened my door and was about to climb out of the car when Edward's hand on my arm stopped me.

"Bells, wait," he said and his voice was strangely breathless.

I turned back to him and was surprised to see that his eyes were mere centimeters from mine and they had that same rather intense look in them. I opened my mouth to ask what he wanted, but then promptly closed it. I had no clue what to say to him when he was looking at me like that.

He took a single deep breath. "I don't want you to blame yourself if the police can't find them. You weren't thinking of what they looked like when they attacked you. You shouldn't expect so much of yourself."

I wanted to tell Edward that he was right. I hadn't been thinking of the men during the attack—I'd been thinking only of him, but instead of disclosing what was in my heart, I just nodded, reassuring him that at the very least, I'd try to do what he asked.

EPOV

Desperately, I wanted to reassure Bella. The tight drawn look on her face from the night before had come back while we were inside the police station and I would do anything to make her fear go away.

Unfortunately, though I'd done my best to save her, my best hadn't been good enough. She'd still had to endure enough that my blood nearly boiled every time I thought about what those bastards had done to her.

I'd considered myself a particularly non-violent person until I'd caught sight of Bella being held and grabbed and then _hit _by a group of merciless, evil assholes. Then I'd simply seen red and I knew that if I'd had the chance to kill one or any of them, I would have taken it. But I'd been too late. The men had already been running off by the time I approached, my heart pounding at the sight in front of me. Bella's head was down, stray pieces of hair falling down her face, and her fists tightly dug into the sand around her. She'd heard my footsteps and instead of looking up, she'd simply flinched and my rage had exploded.

But I'd known that I had to get her away, make sure she was safe. No matter how much I yearned to bring that same fear to their eyes, Bella's safety was more important.

I acknowledged that while I'd done what I could to help bring justice to those bastards, it didn't feel like enough and I desperately wanted something more. I glanced over at Bella as we drove home and I knew she felt the same way, and just like me, she blamed herself.

I was willing to shoulder the blame of letting her out of my sight when I knew that the beach wasn't entirely safe at night, but I couldn't bear the thought of Bella blaming herself. So before she could run away and indulge in a guilt fest, I grabbed her arm and tried to do my best to convince her that she wasn't to blame.

But, now we were facing in each other in the small space of the car, her beautiful brown eyes soft and hazy and her expression full of that quiet hope. A wave of despair and longing and awful resentment against Carlisle crested over me and I longed to break my self-imposed silence and tell her that she was the only girl who had ever mattered, but my tongue grew thick and I could only stare at her. Doing nothing, saying nothing, had become too ingrained of a habit to break this easily.

I realized, belatedly, that I still held her arm, and gently I let it go, hating to break the contact but knowing that if I didn't, I'd do something that I'd never forgive myself for.

Bella glanced down at my hand, and then raised those slightly accusing eyes, got out of the car and went into the house, never looking back.

Before I'd been strong enough to stay from her, but as the weeks passed, it seemed that I'd lost that strength in the aftermath of the attack. Now, something deep inside me refused to let her out of my sight, and somehow all the space I'd spent years maintaining between us had seemingly melted away. We grew close again, like we'd been as children, and we spent every waking minute together.

We'd taken to going running in the evenings together, and I knew she felt far more comfortable and at ease with me by her side. That haunted look on her face rarely returned anymore and I was beginning to think that between my friendship and the support of our families, Bella had managed to move on, and I had never been so grateful for anything in my life. I'd been terrified that she'd be permanently scarred by what she'd almost had to endure.

But with Bella's re-emergence, there was a price and I was paying it dearly. She'd started to smile again and each time she did it lit up her whole face. What Bella didn't know was that every single damn time she smiled up at me, those beautiful brown eyes so trusting and adoring, my self-control nearly faltered. I was beginning to remember all too well why I'd distanced myself in the first place. It was almost impossible to be around Bella and not to do the things that I'd sworn to Carlisle that I wouldn't.

One morning, almost three weeks after the attack, I came downstairs to find Esme making waffles. I poured coffee into my favorite mug and glanced around, surprised that Bella wasn't already downstairs. She was an early riser, and hated to miss a single sunrise, especially while we were at the beach. Even though I definitely didn't consider myself a morning person, Bella had taught me to love and appreciate the way the sun crested over the sand dunes. We'd taken to enjoying it every morning with a mug of Esme's special blend.

"She's still upstairs," Esme said, noticing my confused expression. "I guess she slept in."

"I'll go get her," I offered, putting my coffee down and heading towards the stairs.

"Edward, wait," Esme said, and I turned. She looked uncomfortable, especially for Esme and I gave her a questioning look.

"I know why you've been avoiding Bella," she began and as soon as the words left her lips, I could feel my expression hardening and growing distant. The last person I wanted to discuss this with was Esme, who thought of Bella like a daughter.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said shortly, hoping that she'd dropping it, but knowing that she wouldn't. She wouldn't have brought it up at all if she wasn't determined to see the conversation to its natural end.

"Too bad. Carlisle finally told me what happened. I wondered as much, but he pretty much confirmed that he'd told you to stay away. I yelled at him for a long time," she said and I thought I glimpsed the hint of a smile on her face. "I told him that yes, to a point, he had business interfering but that by no means was it fair to hold you to the same sort of rule for all this time. You were eleven then, Edward. Now you and Bella are almost sixteen. Old enough to fall in love." Her voice grew wistful and I wanted to take the spatula in her hand and use it to painfully bash my own brains out. The last person I had ever wanted to discuss this with was Esme.

Okay, that wasn't _exactly _true. The very last person was probably Bella. Or perhaps her father, Chief Swan.

"I'm not in love with Bella," I insisted, and even to my own ears, the words seemed like a hollow lie.

Esme sighed, her expression totally empathetic. "I told Carlisle that I was going to release you. And I'm doing it. Do with it what you will, but I have to tell you that if you don't do something about it soon, your friendship with Bella is going to be permanently ruined."

I sure didn't need Esme coming to this conclusion, um, I don't know, _four _years too late. I'd spent all these years fruitlessly ignoring Bella with the hope—and the fear—that my feelings would fade. Instead, they'd only grown stronger. I knew that if I didn't leave her alone completely from now on that eventually I would slip and something irrevocable would happen between us. There'd been too many near misses lately and truth was I wasn't even entirely sure I cared anymore. I wanted Bella and screw what anyone else thought.

"Um," I stammered, not entirely sure what to say to Esme. There were too many thoughts rushing through my mind, thoughts that it felt like I'd spent forever banning from my consciousness. But prominently featuring was the idea that I wanted to go wake Bella up the _right _way.

"Just go," Esme said a little playfully, and gave me a shove. "I'll put another pot of coffee on." She turned back towards the stove and I was left standing there, feeling strangely bereft without all the defenses I'd spend so many years erecting.

Slowly, I climbed the stairs, and as I approached the door of the room Bella shared with my sisters, I felt my stomach fill with unexpected butterflies. Never since I'd first become aware of Bella as a woman had I been allowed to do what I wanted. Within reason, I warned myself. I had to be . . .gentlemanly. . .even though I was dying to just shed the polite act and do all the forbidden things I'd dreamed of for so long.

The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open without knocking. Bella was half-turned away from me, the sunlight streaming in the window illuminating her long brown hair as she brushed it. Then I took in the rest of her appearance and, between the paper thin white cotton tank top she wore and the short boxer shorts and Esme's new proclamation, the gentleman inside me totally dissolved.

I crossed the room in three or four large strides and before she even could realize I was there, I had my arms around her and I was brushing the hair from her face.

"Bella," I said tightly, and in my voice was every single damn time that I'd had to turn away from her because I wasn't sure I could control myself. Every single missed opportunity. Every single time that I'd been dying to kiss her but couldn't.

And now I could.

"Edward," she stammered, and her cheeks blushed rosy red.

"I can't do it anymore," I announced to her, as I let my hands wander up and down the graceful sweep of her spine. I couldn't wait to do it when we'd finally dispensed with clothes. I knew, with a slight shiver, that her skin would feel incredibly soft and silky. I had been waiting forever to touch it.

"Can't do what?" she wondered and I wanted to smile at my silly, naïve Bella, who couldn't understand when a man was sick with lust for her.

"Can't pretend that I don't want you. I _want _you, Bella," I said with a low voice. My control was slipping. I'd waited four years to kiss her and I wasn't sure I could wait one moment longer.

Bella shivered a little in my arms, and she gave me a tentative, nervous smile. I could see then that she couldn't quite believe it and I couldn't say that I really blamed her. After all, I'd spent all this time pretending that I _didn't_ want her.

I'd spent so much time imagining the first time our lips would meet, but I never thought that it would be like this, but in the end it didn't matter how it happened. Only that it finally did.

I managed to hold myself back during the first kiss, as I touched my lips to hers. It was gentle and sweet, an appropriate first kiss between a boy and a girl who'd known each other their entire lives. Her lips were soft and warm and so perfect that I knew I would never be able to get enough. We fit together like we'd been made for each other, and as I grasped her closer to me, I wondered if perhaps that was true.

Our second kiss was different. Bella flung her arms around my neck and kissed me back with a passion that took my breath away—and my self control, for that matter. As our tongues dueled and my hands slipped under her tank top and slid up her bare back, a tiny corner of my mind shrieked that we were still in the house and we could be walked in on any minute.

That was pretty much the only thing that could have possibly forced me to move away from her even a millimeter Reluctantly I did and she sighed happily and rested her head on my chest. I felt moisture seep into my t-shirt and I looked down at her brown head.

"You okay, Bells?" I asked, feeling such immense tenderness for her that I didn't know that I could even show her all of it in one lifetime.

"Just happy," she mumbled, and I had to agree. For so long things had felt off and wrong, and now, finally, it seemed that everything had clicked into place.

When we finally ventured downstairs, Bella grabbed my hand and wouldn't let go of it. Esme noticed it, of course, when we walked down the staircase, but she only smiled and did not comment.

"You ready for some coffee, sweetie?" she asked Bella, who nodded.

I could see that Bella was biting her lip in an attempt to keep the huge smile from spreading over her face. I was finding it rather difficult to keep that very same smile from giving us away. We'd tell our families eventually, but for now, it felt good to have it be our own secret.

Bella filled her mug and we walked outside into the early morning sunshine. Settling down on the top step of the porch, Bella sighed and turned towards me.

"Are you going to explain what the hell that was about?" she asked me good naturedly and I nearly spit out the mouthful of coffee that I'd been about to swallow.

"Uh . . .I care about you? You're mine? I'm never letting you go?" At this point, I was hoping that I could avoid telling her about Carlisle and the promise I'd made four years ago, but one of the things I loved so much about Bella was her tenacity.

She put her coffee down on the step next to her and crossed her arms, frowning. "I don't understand," she said slowly, "you acted like you could barely tolerate my presence."

I sighed. "I _wanted _to tell you, Bells. Really I did. I hated that I couldn't. So I stayed away. It was too hard to be around and _not _tell you."

Her brow knit in confusion. "I still don't get it," she countered. "Why _couldn't _you tell me?"

I knew then that Bella knew me far too well. Eventually she'd manage to convince me to divulge my big secret, and maybe it would be better for everyone concerned if I just . . .bit the bullet and told her now.

"Carlisle found me. . .um. . .spying on you when we were eleven and he forbid me from acting on any of my . . .urges." I said it as quickly as possible in the hope that Bella would just gloss over my ambiguous language.

Unfortunately for me, Bella was as smart as she was beautiful and she knew me so well that it was pretty much impossible to get anything past her.

She glared. "Could you slow down and explain what exactly you mean by 'spying' and 'urges'?"

I groaned. Those were the two words I'd hoped most that I could avoid explaining. I had a feeling that I'd be blushing just as red as Bella in a few seconds. How to explain to your best friend and possible girlfriend that you'd been sexually fantasizing about her from the age of eleven?

"Well, it turns out that I developed. . .um. . .pretty early," I said lamely, "and I guess I started noticing you. How pretty you were. And well, I wanted to do. . .certain things. . .with you. And Carlisle found out and made me promise not to . . ."

"Enough," Bella shrieked with laughter in her voice, "you are being absolutely Machiavellian. Start over. From the beginning."

There seemed to be no way around it. I would just have to tell Bella the truth, as humiliating as it was.

"I started spying on you from the tree outside your bedroom window. And jacking off."

Bella's mouth dropped open and fear began to trickle into my heart. What if Bells thought I was a pervert?

Well, I kind of was, but only in a good way. I had to make her understand that.

Then, unbelievably, she started to laugh. Uncontrollably. In fact, she was laughing so hard that her sides were shaking and tears were trickling out from under her eyelids. She was what could probably be termed hysterical.

"I don't think it's that funny," I grumped. "It's a common thing for boys to do."

"It's hilarious," she managed to gasp out. "At least it was Carlisle who caught you and not Charlie."

I couldn't agree with Bella more. The idea of Chief Swan catching me masturbating at his daughter's window filled me with paralyzing fear.

"So you're not mad?" I asked hesitatingly.

"Oh no. I'm definitely mad," she said with a hint of a smile still on her face, "but I'm relieved too."

"Relieved?" I wasn't sure I quite understood.

She sighed. "I thought you hated me for years. Or even worse, that you were indifferent. So yeah, it's a relief that you aren't."

I stared at my hands clasped in front of me. I had spent so much time focusing on my own suffering that I'd never been able to really appreciate or understand what Bella had gone through.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. "So sorry. Carlisle's sorry too."

"I bet he is. But really, it's okay, Edward," Bella said, "I understand. Desperate times call for desperate measures." She could barely manage to keep the smirk off her face this time.

"Wait a second! I was _not _desperate."

Bella hugged her knees to her chest and her eyes were glimmering at me with mischief, not tears, and I knew I was partially on my way to being forgiven. "No? That's a pretty tall tree."

I shook my head emphatically. I couldn't let her think that I'd been _desperate_, even if that was pretty much how it had been.

"Well then," she observed with a smile, "I suppose that means you're not desperate now."

I caught on a lot slower than I wanted to admit to. "Desperate now?"

"Well," she confided, "I was going to let you make out with me under the sand dunes later tonight, but if you're not desperate. . ."

I smiled back, comprehension finally beginning to dawn. "Oh, I'm totally desperate, Bells. Epically desperate you might say. So desperate that maybe it shouldn't wait until tonight."

A thoughtful expression crossed over her face. "You know, I think you might be right. Your desperation is pretty . . .well. . .desperate."

"Is it possible," I teased her back, "that you're just as desperate?"

Bella giggled a little and stood up, our coffee forgotten on the step. Holding her hand out to me, she said, "You have no idea."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I want to thank whoever it is that invented the amazing, miraculous Word Challenge. That's why you're getting this only a week after chapter 5 was posted. Anyway, a couple of warnings here. First, I want to remind y'all that this story is rated M. Second of all, if you are really squeamish about underage stuff, don't read it. Third of all, I have to admit having never been an 11 year old boy, writing one was difficult. It's probably not entirely accurate. But hey--I don't think any of you are 11 year old boys either, so maybe I'm safe and any inconsistencies will go unnoticed. I wrote this because a lot of reviewers expressed curiosity and/or amusement in this particular scene, so I thought I'd give it a shot.**

**YES, the first section IS a flashback.**

**Also, some of you did comment on the age inconsistency thing. When I initially wrote GP, I wrote the ages as I had them in PL. This meant that there were problems in GP with how old they were blah blah blah. So I went and changed all the ages to a year later, but it seems I missed a few. So to clarify: Edward and Bella are 17. They will start their senior year of high school next year. Ignore if I say otherwise lol.**

**Thanks to Tif for the quick beta and to Trinity and Hopeful Wager and pwtf for being AWESOME WC partners.**

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_Six years earlier_

EPOV

The bark of the tree was rough on my hands as I hoisted myself up towards Bella's window. I kept my head down, both out of desperate shame and also because I didn't know what I'd do if Chief Swan caught me right now. Humiliation wasn't even a good word. It would be so, _so _much worse than just embarrassment.

I could just picture the conversation in my head, as I climbed higher, my arm muscles aching as I lifted myself higher and the rough bark scraped my hands.

"_I'm sorry, Chief Swan. I wanted to see your daughter naked so bad that I climbed into the tree outside her window and became a Peeping Tom, right here in Forks."_

I could even see Bella's flushed face as she peered around her father, who wouldn't even say a word to me—he'd just stand there, arms crossed over his broad, formidable chest, and stare me down, making me squirm with every second that he kept me waiting for his final judgment.

_Bella_.

The mental boy in the picture in my head sighed at how beautiful she looked, even though his life was in serious danger.

I was so carried away by the picture she made, her silky dark brown hair falling around her pale angelic face that I nearly lost my grip on the tree and I felt gravity begin to pull me back down to earth. But I recovered in time, my strong legs regaining their grip on the branch they stood on. Then I looked up, and into Bella's window.

I was positioned slightly to the side, so I could see in, but if Bella happened to look out, all she'd see, barely outlined in the darkness of the night, was the tree. She wouldn't see me. At least that was what I had convinced myself of, the first time I'd done this crazy thing.

I was slightly more confident now, which was because I'd done this way too many damn times now. A twinge of guilt twisted through me, and I tried to embrace it, but the . . .the. . .thing inside me that _made _me climb Bella's tree so I could watch her unobserved wouldn't permit any guilt. _What she doesn't know won't hurt her_, the monster whispered to me, lulling me back into complacency.

And then Bella appeared, her head surrounded by a nimbus of golden light from the lamp beside her bed, and the vision of her was all I needed to convince myself that right here was where I needed to be. Without this, I would die. Totally implode from the feelings swirling inside me, like a hurricane.

I was in the eye of the storm and I couldn't pry myself and I didn't even fucking want to.

The storm's name was Bella Swan and I wanted her so god damned bad that I could nearly feel it on my tongue as she shimmed out of her t-shirt.

During the days we spent together, I blessed those loose t-shirts that Bella wore and when the night came, and she took them off, I was in heaven and hell, desperate to not just look—but to feel too. To slide my hands up that soft, smooth white skin.

The way Bella dressed was the only way I'd managed to keep myself from doing anything. And, I told myself, these sessions in the tree outside her window.

The t-shirt dropped to the floor and I muttered something totally unholy and profane as Bella's slender white back drenched in the thick skein of her hair slid into my view. She was so fucking beautiful. Maybe not to anyone else—but to me. And I was all that mattered. She would never need anyone else, I vowed to myself as my pants grew tight.

I had learned my lesson the first time I'd crawled into Bella's tree and after nearly falling out because I'd been wrestling with my boxers _and _my jeans, I'd learned to travel light. Of course, I hadn't known that I'd be doing this that first night. I had lied to myself the whole way up the tree, though my hands had been shaking with fear and nerves and so much fucking _want_.

I'd thought I'd self-combust if I didn't do _something _about it, and the monster had whispered in my ear that Bella's tree was perfectly climbable—and that Bella rarely remembered to close her blinds at night. She still naively thought that nobody would be interested in her slim body.

But I was. I was _definitely _interested. So interested that I was finding it difficult to maneuver the zipper and I had to suck in my breath and slide it down carefully so that I wouldn't damage anything.

Finally, I managed to get the zipper down and as my cock sprang out of the fly of my jeans, I glimpsed up.

_Holy mother of God, _I breathed out with a shaky murmur. Bella had slipped her shorts down while I'd been occupied with preparing for the next segment of the evening, and she was now clad in only the most innocent, most fucking naughty pair of white panties with little blue flowers on them. And that was it.

She was brushing her hair, somehow knowing exactly what to do that would turn me on, and as the sweep of her hair flowed down her spine, just reaching the top of her perfectly curved ass, I imagined my hands following the same path, tracing patterns on her smooth skin.

My fingers were now fully occupied in stroking me, my dick so hard that it almost hurt to touch it. Somehow Bella managed to bring me to new heights every time I saw her like this. I could look at a dozen pornographic magazines and not feel the same way I did right now.

Bella turned now, the golden light encompassing her, and she was both an angel and the devil, pushing me to newer, different fantasies. I imagined me sliding my hands up that skin, rubbing her ass into my crotch, and letting my fingers trace the curves of her breasts.

I had heard those assholes in school tease and taunt her for being flat. What those idiots didn't know was that Bella was sweetly curved. She was just. . .fucking perfect. . .I thought as I let my fist slide down my dick. Not too small, and definitely not too big.

I could almost picture Bella doing that, her innocent brown eyes not quite meeting mine, and her lips twisting into a not-so-innocent smile as she replaced my hand with her own. I kissed her hard and let my fingers sink into those white panties. I panted as I felt how wet she was realized she was even hotter for me as I was for her.

I let out a combination of a gasp and a muffled groan as I felt my dick spasm in my hand, electric pleasure dancing up it and into the core of my body. I half-collapsed against the trunk of the tree and let my free hand hang limp and loose. Every time I thought that it couldn't be better, and it always was.

Bella had now finished brushing her hair and had put on a yellow tank top and a pair of multi-colored striped boxers that made her look like Rainbow Brite. I kind of hated when she got dressed again, but even then, she was so beautiful and alluring she took me breath away. I winced as I even felt myself get a little hard again.

Just like most of the evenings when I climbed Bella's tree, tonight, I stayed and watched her finish the rest of her routine before bed. She rolled the sheets and comforter down the bed and dragged out a ratty blanket from her closet. She laid down on the bed and reached for one of her many, many books, a small smile on her face. I loved this part. I loved watching the expressions slide across her face like butter on hot toast. I loved the way that she relaxed and let the emotions inside of her out when she thought nobody was watching.

I smiled in response as she chuckled at whatever it was that she reading, and that was the second it hit me. Sure I loved the way she brushed her hair, and the way it cascaded down her slim body. I loved imagining all the things she might let me do to her and with her, eventually, but that wasn't _really _why I was here.

I was here because of _this_—Bella lying in her bed and reading a fucking book.

My mind raced with disbelief and shock and the residual opinion that girls still had cooties, and so I didn't hear the leaves crunching under the tree until it was too late.

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen!" My skin went clammy with fear as I heard the hissed exclamation from underneath me. I told myself it could have been worse. I told myself that he could have seen me five minutes ago and then I would have been in _real _trouble, but the truth was, it was bad either way. Either way, this was going to be one hell of an awkward conversation.

Hastily, with much less finesse than I'd used to climb the damn thing—after all, I'd been caught now—I slid down the trunk, my hands catching on the bark. I wouldn't have been surprised if they were bleeding, but I was too numb and terrified to even glance down at them.

My dad was standing on the ground in front of the tree, his arms crossed over his formidable chest, and his mouth set in a grim line. He looked really angry and I hoped that whatever punishment he doled out would be over soon. I didn't want to risk losing any of the summer, which started in three weeks.

I opened my mouth to try to explain but he held up one hand, his eyes flinty and cold, to stop me. Suddenly, he turned and motioned angrily for me to follow him. We left the Swans' backyard and crossed over into ours.

Carlisle stayed silent until we were in our own yard, and then he turned on me abruptly.

"What in the _fucking hell _were you thinking, Edward?" He was hissing now, obviously trying to keep his voice down, but the anger in his tone was unmistakable. I was in big, big trouble. It was only then that I began to wonder how much he'd seen.

I looked up into his face and there was enough light from the porch for me to see his expression for the first time since he'd caught me in the tree. He knew. He had seen everything.

Oh my god. I had never wanted to drop through the earth and disappear more than I wanted to in this moment. My dad was so awesome. He was brilliant and a doctor and saved people's lives all the time. I wanted nothing more than to be just like him.

I knew enough about him to know that he would _never _have done what I did tonight, and had been doing for weeks. Shame curled through my stomach and I suddenly felt like heaving.

I shrugged. How could I ever begin to explain what had driven me to Bella's window? I didn't even understand it myself. It was this great big mystery. All I knew was that it was one of the strongest things I'd ever felt and I'd been helpless to resist it. But I couldn't make excuses to my dad. He deserved better than that.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled and I felt the horrific sting of tears at the back of my throat. I swallowed hard, forcing them back. I wouldn't let him see how much his disappointment in me hurt.

"You damn well should be. That is . . ._gross misconduct. _Bella Swan is one of your best friends. You've known her since birth. How can you behave like this towards her?"

I wanted to tell him that it hadn't been shameful—okay, well some of it had been—but I couldn't untangle my tongue to do it. And even if I had been able to, there were no words in my vocabulary that could possibly express to him _why_. I wanted to see Bella in a different way. I _did _see her in a different way. And I had to have some way to express that, to separate that from the way we interacted normally. But the ideas jumbled in my head and before I could try to speak, Carlisle spoke again, his voice harsh and absolute.

"You will stay away from her that way, Edward. I will not have it. And neither will her father."

My head bent further down, my chin nearly touching my chest. I had expected to be grounded maybe, have my allowance taken away. I had never expected that I could lose her. Carlisle jerked my chin up with a rough movement and he looked me in the eyes. "Promise me."

I had done nothing up to this point but let him down, so I couldn't do anything else but nod my head shakily. I didn't know what the promise would mean yet, but anything seemed better than living with his disappointment in me. I would be better, I swore to myself. I would relegate Bella to that part of me that thought of her as just a friend. I would forget the images that felt like they were seared on my brain.

"Yes, sir," I whispered. "Bella is just a friend."

* * *

_Six years later:_

I laid back, feeling the heat of the sand seep through the thin cotton of my t-shirt and into my skin. Even though it was still early, the sun was already hot and bright this morning. Glancing sideways, I saw Bella had her eyes closed, an enigmatic smile on her face as she basked in the sunlight. Her hands clasped her chipped mug on her stomach and the long sweep of her mahogany hair swirled out behind her like a dark halo.

"So you're still mad huh?" I asked, closing my eyes too.

"Yep," Bella said in a casual voice without even looking over at me.

"I suppose I deserve it," I said, trying not to sound sulky.

I must have failed because she finally opened her eyes and glanced over at me. "Don't give me that crap," she laughed. "You _spied _on me and much, much worse. Someday I'm going to get you to tell me the details of that."

I mentally shuddered and hoped she never brought it up again. "Don't count on it."

"Then I suppose I'll just ask Carlisle," she said, so calmly that it was like she didn't realize that there were bombs and explosions and the possibility of nuclear winter in my head.

"Please don't," I begged. "God, Bella, it was so embarrassing, I can't even tell you. All I want to do is just forget it happened."

Of course, this was Bella we were talking about, and she would never just let something lie. "I want to know," she said stubbornly. "If you won't tell me, I'll ask Carlisle."

"I don't think he um. . .saw everything," I stammered. _Liar_.

"Liar," she said and when I glanced over, she had shifted so that she was laying on her side, staring at me intently, her brown eyes soft and warm. Bella was the most infuriating girl in the whole world, but I told myself that she always had the best of intentions. Even when she drove me crazy.

I sighed and reached up to brush the hair off her cheek, marveling that today, for the first time, I was actually able to feel the satin softness of her skin under my fingertips.

"Bella," I murmured, "you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." I pulled her toward me just until our lips barely brushed together.

"Me too," she sighed with pleasure, letting her arms slide around my neck. Our lips met again, and as the kiss deepened I could taste the mint of her toothpaste and Esme's amazing breakfast blend. My hands sunk into her hair, tangling through the shiny, soft strands. I had spent years imagining how this would feel, and the real thing eclipsed every single one of my fantasies. Bella fit me perfectly, I thought, as I held her closer and tighter, like she had been made for me, and I had been made for her.

Then what was left of my thoughts simply evaporated out of my head as Bella slid her hands up my back, underneath my shirt, and I groaned at how good her hands felt on my bare skin. Gasping for breath, we finally broke apart and to my surprise, Bella broke into peals of laughter.

"What's funny?" I asked crossly, not sure what to think. I'd just had my brain blown by a girl, and she was _laughing_.

"You should see your face," she gasped between hysterical convulsions. "You look _so _irritated."

"I wouldn't be so _irritated _if you would tell me what the fuck is so damn funny," I growled at her, grabbing her waist and dragging her toward me again. I looked into her laughing face, and my breath nearly caught. Bella was always beautiful, but right now she was glowing with so much happiness that it nearly radiated off of her. I was used to seeing angry, sullen Bella and this change was something that I wanted to drink in before it could disappear again.

"I'm just happy," she finally confessed, her laughter calming. "I didn't think that I could be so happy."

We settled back into the dune, the warm sand behind our backs, and didn't speak for a minute while Bella finished catching her breath.

"You were really unhappy before, then?" I asked cautiously, afraid that I already knew the answer, and afraid that it was all my fault.

She didn't answer right away, and there was a rather serious, thoughtful expression on her face.

"I guess. Yes. No. I don't know."

"You can trust me. I want you to tell me the truth," I said as persuasively as I could. I felt like we had years of catching up to do. We hadn't been really close in what seemed like forever. I had to make up for the lost time.

"You were my best friend. I adored you." Bella's voice caught. "One day you were there and the next you weren't, not really. And every day after you were there less."

"I am so sorry. I wish I could change it." I tangled her fingers in mine and brought her hand to my lips and brushed a kiss on the palm. "I wished I had never promised Carlisle anything."

"What did you promise Carlisle?" she asked with curiosity rampant in her voice.

"That I'd treat you like a friend. Just a friend."

She frowned. "But you didn't. You treated me like I had the plague. Like I was the walking Black Death."

I felt a surge of guilt rush through me and I remembered why it was that I typically stayed away from Bella. Sometimes she made me feel like the best version of myself but most of the time I felt like the worst iteration—not the best.

"I know," I whispered, meeting her eyes even though shame was twisting in my gut. I just hoped that Bella couldn't see it the same way I did. I didn't deserve her after all the wrongs I'd perpetrated, and I hoped to God that she wouldn't see that right away. That we'd at least have a few weeks of happiness together before she decided that I was worthless and shifty and a crappy friend.

"I wish I could understand," Bella said. "Just to see into your mind and see why you did what you did. I know why I did what _I _did, but you're still a mystery to me."

"Trust me, you don't want to know, Bells," I admitted. "It makes me feel like shit every time I think about it."

"Wait a second," she said, sitting up abruptly. "You don't . . .you don't think that I blame you for all of this, right?" Bella gestured at the space between the two of us.

I nodded mutely. How could she not? I was the one who'd been caught doing something totally unacceptable at the age of _eleven_, for god's sake, and then I'd had to make the promise that had forced me away from her. If I had been a bigger—a _better_—man I could have been her friend the way she needed me to. But I had been weak and spineless and I'd stayed away from her because I knew if I didn't, I would break my promise.

But I had broken it anyway. I had promised Carlisle that I would be Bella's friend and I certainly hadn't been that over the last few years. We'd barely been able to exchange civilities.

"This isn't just your fault, Edward," she argued. "Yes, maybe, it was initially, but I certainly compounded it. I don't want you to blame yourself."

"Too late," I told her honestly.

"Well, then," Bella smiled, "we'll just have to work on that, won't we? It's a long summer. We have time."

I found it hard to believe that Bella was taking this so easily and was able to just casually say that she'd help convince me that I wasn't to blame.

"You should be mad. You said you were mad."

Bella just shrugged and wound her arms around my waist. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. And maybe I just want you for your body."

I had to smile at the blatant invitation on her face as her lips curled up into an irresistible smile. "Well, like you said, it's a _long _summer," I said teasingly as I leaned in and kissed her.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I am SO sorry this took so long to update. . .but I think now that I have the rest of the story planned out, it should be much easier for me to write. There's going to be a total of 13 chapters in all, unless something significant changes.**

**A couple of things: **

**1. Edward, Emmett, Jasper, and Bella are 17. They are going to be seniors in high school next year. Rosalie and Alice are both 16. I think that in chapter 5 (or maybe it was 6), I missed some of the age changes that I made while writing this story. So if you're confused, there you go.**

**2. Most people reacted pretty well to the flashback last chapter, but I just want to reiterate that I felt it was necessary to see firsthand so that we know Edward wasn't just being a nasty creeper. And that while Carlisle overreacted a little bit, his heart was really in a good place. I really want to thank y'all for being awesome about a scene that could have been taken in totally the wrong way. I think it's an awesome testament to my readers that you guys handled it so well. I LOVE YOU ALL :)  
**

**3. YES, I am going to Comic Con in a few weeks. YES, I am on the Twilight fanfiction panel that is being held on Saturday morning (July 25). The full listing of authors participating in the panel is on my profile, but I do need to come up with some questions for LolaShoes (the moderator) to ask me. If any of you have anything you are dying to have me answer, please leave the suggestion in a review or a PM. I am totally coming up blank here and I need some serious help! If you are going to CC, also, PLEASE let me know, so I can look out for you. I will be there Wednesday night, late, to stand in line for the NM panel and I am sure we will be there all night and all day (lovely, I know).**

**4. I just posted a guest blog up on The Lazy Yet Discerning Ficster blog. Link is on my profile. Check it out!  
**

**Okay, sorry that was an epically long AN . . .I apologize :) Anyway, thanks to my awesome beta CallistoLexx and ENJOY the chapter bbs!**

* * *

BPOV

I wasn't being totally honest with Edward. I _was _mad, except that it wasn't just mad—I was fucking furious. Edward's only saving grace here was that it wasn't _him _that I was angry at.

It was Carlisle.

When Edward had confessed, I hadn't grasped the obvious implications because I was too busy trying to wrap my head around the idea that his distance from me hadn't been because he didn't want me but instead because he wanted me _too _much. As comprehension began to sink in, my anger grew.

_Carlisle,_ I thought with venom, had ruined at least three years of my life, and perhaps semi-ruined another several besides that. No, I wasn't just angry. I was furious with a blinding, hateful resentment that I could barely seem to contain. I was shocked that Edward couldn't feel the tensing of my muscles as I contemplated all the ways he'd contrived to make my life hell.

Maybe he did because I could sense him gearing up for another round of lazy conversation as we lay here in the dune, the sun beating down on us. We'd been lying out here for at least an hour now, alternatively talking and making out, the latter with a growing hunger.

Edward pulled me closer, even though I was already half on top of him and he opened his mouth to speak, his lips a deeper shade of red than I was seeing and it wasn't because the sun had been beating down on us. _I _was responsible for that, I thought smugly, and I hoped that I looked just as wrecked. I certainly felt wrecked and then set adrift on a sea of hot desire. How were we ever going to keep our hands off each other? How had we _ever _kept our hands off each other?

Then, just as he was about to ask me why I suddenly felt so tense—it was nearly a foregone conclusion because Edward knew me as well as I knew myself—I heard footsteps on the sand coming towards us and he sat up abruptly, brushing sand conscientiously off my back.

I turned my head and shielded my eyes from the sun. Esme was walking towards us, grasping a mug in her hands, a huge smile spreading over her face.

"I hate to break this up," she said kindly, stopping a good distance away. "But we _do _have plans for the day."

"Plans?" Edward asked, with just a hint of a whine in his voice. I knew that he, like me, would much, _much _rather spend our whole day here, making out. . .and more.

Just what the "more" might entail, I wasn't sure, but I was sure that Edward knew. I already knew that he was more experienced than me, because of the million rumors circulating about him at school. Those rumors had once turned me absolutely green with envy and made me sick to my stomach, but now I was simply curious. I had to wonder if he would want to do the same things as me, and how eager could I appear to do them with him without looking sluttish like Jessica or Tanya?

We'd kept it relatively PG so far, with Edward only pushing my tank up a little so he could rub the small of my back in devastatingly slow circles. However, he'd been very good—or bad, I wasn't sure which—and hadn't even attempted to go either higher or lower. And while our kisses seemed unbearably passionate at points, Edward had always been the one to break them off first, and we'd rest our foreheads together, panting a little bit. Then he'd subtly manage to start another conversation, until the air between us cooled off a little.

Every time he did break apart from me, I tried to convince myself that it made sense. We'd only been kissing this way for less than 24 hours, but I felt like I'd been waiting my whole life to kiss Edward and any time we spent without our lips together was just a waste of time. Logically, I knew it was unrealistic, but I couldn't stop irrational annoyance from swamping me each time he pulled away.

"The gardens around here need some serious work," Esme said firmly, and she turned to go back into the house, leaving us with no choice but to slowly get to our feet to follow her.

We were nearly in the house when Edward grabbed my hand suddenly. "Wait," he said in a hushed voice, glancing towards the porch door to make sure that Esme wasn't conveniently near. "I have to kiss you one more time."

"And we can't kiss in front of your mother?" I asked, barely managing to rein in the blush that threatened to flood my face.

"Not like this," Edward murmured, pushing me back against one of the wooden porch posts until the coarse unfinished wood abraded my skin through my thin t-shirt. But I didn't even notice the discomfort because Edward's mouth was on mine, and he was kissing me hard and long with a rough passion that he'd been holding in before.

My hands slid up his back, slowly so I could take in every individual muscle that strained against his worn gray shirt. Edward had been wearing this shirt for years, and it was nearly as familiar to me as any of my own, but it seemed different somehow—now that I could touch it for myself.

Now that I could touch _him_.

"Bella," Edward groaned, lifting his mouth from mine. "God, you're going to kill me."

I decided that he was far from death and that I was sick of him always making the move and I hesitatingly arched my neck so that I could kiss him instead of the other way around.

Edward's reaction was instantaneous and even more effective than I'd imagined it would be. I'd felt how much he liked kissing me before, when we were lying together in the sand dunes, but I had a feeling he'd done his best to keep the evidence of his arousal as removed from me as possible. However, with me half-lying on top of him, I couldn't exactly miss it. Now, with his body pressed flush against mine, I felt everything and I realized just how much Edward really wanted me.

Even though I'd initiated our kiss, and I'd done my best to prolong it by weaving my fingers through his sleep-mussed hair and holding his head down towards mine, Edward finally broke off, panting hard.

We stared at each other for a long moment. I had a feeling that his self-control was warring with the knowledge that his mother was only a few steps into the house and that she'd definitely be shocked to find us making out on the porch. Though I'd already prosaically decided that she would probably be catching us at some point, perhaps the best time to be caught wouldn't be the first day.

"We should go into the house," Edward said reluctantly and this time, I agreed with him. Nodding, I released him and he stepped away, though the moment he did, I wanted nothing more than to grab and kiss him all over again.

But I knew that we needed space to re-establish some sort of boundaries or else we might clue the parentals into just how much we wanted to hump each other silly.

"Edward, we need to talk about . . .this," I said as amorphously as possible, gesturing at the space between us. He hadn't given what we were a name yet, and I wasn't exactly eager to have that conversation yet. I had watched enough movies and read enough books to know that it almost _always _went badly and since we had just started going _right, _I wasn't going to do anything to derail that.

But still, we needed to establish some basic ground rules like . . .were we going to tell our families that our relationship had fundamentally changed? Considering what had happened with Carlisle before, I was leaning towards the negative on that, but I wanted to check with Edward first.

"Like what?" Just like I'd feared, Edward took a single step backwards and crossed his arms over his chest. I tried to fight the rising panic. We were _not _going to have our first fight merely hours into this.

"Well you know," I managed to stammer, "for example, should we tell our families?"

Edward's face took on a rather contemplative expression, and I knew I'd stumped him.

"I always expected we would, I suppose, but it makes sense not to."

For two such dissimilar people, we were on the same page remarkably often lately. And just because I could, for one last time before we went into the house, I let myself drift back into the circle of his arms, and press a single hot kiss against his warm lips.

I pulled away because I heard movement inside the house and if I was going to control myself around Edward, I had to start now, because I was afraid I'd start to maul him in the living room.

_And this is a bad thing? _the little voice in the back head asked.

It definitely was, I decided, tamping down the rebellious part of me that wanted Edward to just take me on the floor of the most used room in the house.

It was possible, just _possible_, that Edward was as interested in losing his vaunted self-control as I was.

What was even more possible, I thought as I felt Edward's hand surreptitiously graze the curve of my ass as we walked through the doorway, was that it was going to be a damn interesting summer.

EPOV

Esme and Renee dragged us to every gardening shack between Seaside and Newport. By the time we returned home, the van was loaded to the gills with so many flats of plants and bags of soil that the inside had taken on a slightly musty air.

I hadn't exactly been pleased that Bella and I had to spend our inaugural day as more than just friends with both our mothers as they debated the merits of bulbs versus perennials, but I had managed to sneak a kiss or two.

And this morning. . .well. . .this morning would be forever burned into my brain as the first time I'd had the pleasure of holding and kissing Isabella Marie Swan until we were both breathless with desire.

It was a heady feeling that I wasn't sure I'd ever get sick of. While Bella certainly wasn't the first girl I'd ever kissed, she was definitely the first I'd ever really _wanted _to kiss, and I had a strong feeling it was possible she might be the last girl I ever wanted to kiss. Especially now that I knew exactly what her lips felt like under mine.

Still, the guilt assailed me. Bella was pure—undeniably a virgin. I was undeniably _not _a virgin, and had had more than my share of sexual escapades. The memories of those were fuzzy and unclear, forgotten almost in the burning sear of our kisses from today, but I couldn't deny that they existed. I was worried about how much I could corrupt her and if Carlisle, or god forbid, _Charlie, _found out, I wasn't sure I would live through it. If my own guilt didn't kill me, they certainly would.

Esme discharging me from my dad's promise had only been the impetus to finally release the hold I'd had on myself where Bella was concerned; unfortunately, it didn't erase years of trying to resist her. The resistance was too ingrained and I seriously worried about how we would approach the sexual issue.

Of course, we had been together for less than twenty four hours, but I knew myself and if this morning was any indication, we were definitely a combustible couple. I could maybe hold off her determined advances to turn things more sexual for a few weeks, tops. There was no way I could delay her any longer than that. My own body would turn on itself in frustration. I had waited years for Bella, and I'd be damned if I'd wait any longer.

Nevermind those pesky feelings that were rattling around inside me that had nothing to do with sex whatsoever. I had no idea what to do with those, or even what to fucking call them. They were just _there _and though their purpose was still unknown to me, hell would freeze over before I would let Bella think that all I wanted her for was just sex.

The van pulled to a stop outside the beach house, and I groaned as Renee chirped happily, "Time to unload!"

Loosely translated this meant: Edward hauls every single plant and bag of soil out of the car in the hellish heat without a single bit of help from the ladies, who sit on the porch sipping cool lemonade while he schleps until he's a sweaty, exhausted mess.

True to form, this was exactly what transpired. It was July and at least 90 in the heat of the day. As I carried what seemed like the umpteenth bag of dirt from the van to the backyard, I decided that it was time to get rid of my shirt, which was soaked through with sweat in several places. What I hadn't anticipated was Bella's expression when I casually shucked it off.

Per our agreement earlier this morning, both Bella and I been silent on the change in our relationship, though it was certain that both Renee and Esme suspected. They could hardly be in any suspense of Bella's feelings once she saw me take my shirt off.

She'd just been sitting on the porch, casually sipping her lemonade, staring off into space as Renee and Esme chatted, and I'd been wondering if she was thinking of me as I set the bag down on the ground and proceeded to strip naked to the waist. Using the shirt as a makeshift towel, I sponged the sweat off my face and then I glanced up at Bella again.

Her reaction to my shirtlessness confirmed my suspicions. She gasped and managed to inhale the lemonade she'd just swallowed, causing her to choke helplessly while Renee banged mercilessly on her back.

I couldn't help but laugh. Bells was adorable even with lemonade coming out her nose.

"You okay, Bella?" I called to her as I picked the bag up again and threw it over my shoulder. She turned an incredible shade of puce and now I _knew _she'd been thinking about me. While I was naturally thrilled that her thoughts mirrored my own so closely, I unfortunately had to deliberately turn away from the porch so that Renee and Esme wouldn't see the effect that Bella had on me.

Lugging all this stuff wouldn't have even been such a hardship with Bella watching, but as I carried the next load, I realized that it was undeniably uncomfortable to do so with a raging hard-on. Bella seemed to have caught on to the newly-awkward way I was walking and she was undeniably chuckling, using her lemonade glass to hide her amusement from Renee and Esme—but the truth was, they were so deep in conversation that I doubted they would have even noticed if a bomb had gone off on the porch.

I had no idea what the two women were so absorbed chattering over, but I had a feeling that it didn't bode well for me. And when I went back to the car for the final load of dirt, I knew what they'd been talking about.

A dark forest green Jeep Wrangler pulled into the driveway with the speed of a racecar, sending gravel spraying everywhere. I had to shield my face so I wouldn't get blasted.

I tried to summon a welcoming smile for my sister's boyfriend, Emmett McCarty, but it was hard. Bella and I had felt so removed from the whole high school social whirl here at the beach, and it was easy to forget that when we were in Forks, we traveled in _very _different circles. It was going to be hard enough to transition back to that environment when we had to, in the fall, but to do so now, when our mutual truce was so new, would be close to impossible.

Of course, I should have known that Emmett would be showing up—it was almost Fourth of July weekend, after all—and he and Rosalie were pretty much joined at the hip. Ruefully, I knew that his absence probably had everything to do with football camp than with personal choice and I wondered how much practice time I was losing to Esme's insistence that I be here this summer instead of in Forks.

I had to remind myself that if I had stayed in Forks then Bella would never have been saved from those vicious, drunken men and then we never would have managed to cut through all the bullshit and misunderstandings of the last few years. I still wouldn't know what her lips felt like. And now, I thought smugly, as Emmett jumped out of the Jeep without even bothering to unlock the door, I knew and that knowledge was an amazing thing.

I walked over to the Jeep, ready to greet Emmett, who on a good day could be considered a friend, and I was momentarily surprised by a strange blond guy, walking around from the passenger side of Emmett's Jeep.

"Edward, hey," Emmett said in his deep jovial voice, clasping my outstretched hand. "This is my cousin, Jasper Hale from Texas. He just moved here, and Esme invited him up for the Fourth."

I gave a slight nod to the tall blond man at Emmett's side. He looked laidback and quiet, but he was definitely built. I knew a fellow jock when I saw one, and I exchanged quick glances with Emmett, whose face could be read like an open book.

"So you play football, huh?" I asked Jasper, who looked up from his contemplation of the gravel with a rather surprised expression. Clearly that was the last thing he'd been expecting me to say.

"Yep. Wide out."

"That's redneck slang for wide receiver," Emmett cut in, chuckling, and Jasper cuffed him rather aggressively on the arm. I was more and more intrigued by this guy and I couldn't help but wonder if he was any good.

"Come on, Rosalie's probably dying to see you," I said as I grabbed the last bag of dirt from the van and Emmett and Jasper tossed out duffel bags from the back of the Jeep.

Emmett and Jasper followed me around the back of the house, to the backyard, where Rosalie and Alice had joined the rest of the women on the porch. Rose's eyes lit up when she saw Emmett and she took off running towards him, leaping into his arms almost before he could drop the duffel bag and catch her. He laughed, a deep resounding sound of contentment and I wondered, not for the first time since this morning, if Bella and I were doing the right thing in keeping our romance under wraps. I watched as Rosalie and Emmett kissed very enthusiastically, and I was more than a little amused to see a blushing Jasper glance away, only to look at the porch and see my other sister, Alice.

Alice was young, but she wasn't exactly in the cradle, and though she was always complaining that Rose and I had gotten the looks in the family, Jasper clearly didn't agree with her, if the way that he was making his way over to her was any indication.

Bella had stood up and wandered over to where Alice was introducing herself to Jasper, and I walked over to them too. I wondered if Emmett would notice our casual interaction and wonder what had transpired between us. I hoped he wouldn't, but Rose had definitely rubbed off on him during their year together and they were now pretty equal on the gossip scale.

I inwardly chuckled. Who would have ever thought that Emmett McCarty, with his brutal running style, well developed muscles and enormous beefy hands, would be the biggest fucking gossip on the Forks football team?

And like clockwork, as I stood comfortably and casually next to Bella, with an arm casually slung over her shoulders, Emmett called out, "Dude, what's up with you and Bella?"

Instantly, I felt Bella's worried eyes on me, and I knew she wanted me to give some sort of explanation—but not to give the _real _explanation. To be honest, I was already sick of the façade that we weren't together. We'd been _not _together for long enough. Pretending now when it wasn't true felt wrong, but I understood the whole point of keeping mum. First of all, we could figure out what we were before having to run interference from our large, well-meaning, hopelessly interfering family, and second, we could have a bit more freedom before they figured out that I wanted to screw her brains out and Carlisle and Charlie put a kibosh on that plan.

And speaking of Carlisle . . .

"Yes, Edward, what _is _up with you and Bella?" His deep voice resonated across the lawn and I turned toward him with a resigned expression on my face. I could feel Bella's heated blush, even though I was facing away from her, and I thought that for once, we were definitely in agreement that this moment couldn't get more awkward when a second voice joined Carlisle's.

"Yep, that's what I want to know."

Charlie. Fucking wonderful. There were times when I loved having two dads, but right now was definitely not one of them. And it certainly didn't help that one of those dads was also the extremely protective biological father of the woman that was giving me the most epic blue balls known to man.

Oh, and did I mention that he was the Chief of Police _and _the football coach at Forks High School?

I was so screwed and unfortunately in the metaphorical and not the literal sense.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I could offer all kinds of excuses as to why this took as long as it did, but I'm sure you're all pretty familiar with them. In any case, I AM sorry, and it won't be nearly so long next time. I promise. I did have a great time at Comic Con, and I really hope I can go next year as well. It was so awesome to finally meet so many of my fanfiction buddies!**

**Thanks for everyone's awesome reviews on the last chapter. I am totally astonished and pleased at how much you all love this Edward and Bella. They are so sweet and naive and innocent somehow--despite everything--and so in love that it just slays me.**

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BPOV

I knew the second I saw Carlisle and Charlie walk up that we were in deep, deep trouble. From Edward's expression, he knew it too. After all, how could he not? Esme had said she'd "fixed" things with Carlisle, but they looked anything but fixed now. Clearly in the last twenty four hours, he'd re-thought his position on my relationship with his son.

I expected Edward to answer right back with some clever, quippy remark that both charmed everyone and gave nothing away. This was what he did. This was why he was going to answer the question and I sure as hell wasn't. Edward was clever and charming and always ready with a quick comeback. I could usually think of one—but it took me hours and sometimes even days to think up something really killer.

Except that he didn't. He said nothing, and continued to stare, with a shocked and almost _scared _expression, at the two men who were walking across the lawn towards the porch.

Tension flared in the empty silent space. I screwed up my courage and I glanced at my dad, hoping that he would have his normal goofy smile on his face. He didn't. Whoops. I'd been scared to say anything before, but now I was pretty sure that horses couldn't drag words out of my mouth.

Edward cleared his throat. "Um. . .nothing . . .sir," he added belatedly. "Nothing's going on between us."

The frozen tableau of people around us didn't move. I heard Esme's sharp intake of breath. She _knew _he was lying. Fuck, from Carlisle and Charlie's expressions, they knew he was lying too. Though Edward was the one who usually did the saving—and that's because he was Edward and therefore better at it—I knew today, I would have to save him. Bella Swan saving Edward Cullen's ass. Next thing I knew, hell would freeze over and heaven would sprout a volcano.

"We decided to bury the hatchet," I said softly. "It was a long time coming."

"Exactly," Edward agreed, much more confidently, and his arm slid down off my shoulders. I missed his touch, but with both of our dads watching us, this was not exactly the time to be touchy-feely.

Charlie sidled up closer, so that he could give my mom a quick kiss. He slid his aviator sunglasses off, and I could see him giving Edward something of a visual interrogation. Of course he was trying to figure out if Edward and I were lying—which, we were—and I hoped that the firmly pasted-on smile I gave him helped to lessen his distrust.

I could nearly feel Edward's tension as Charlie stared him down. We weren't physically touching, and probably anybody else wouldn't have seen it, but I'd known Edward his entire life and I'd spent the last five years watching him intently. The tension was there in the pinched skin between his brows, in the way he continually shifted his weight between his feet, and finally in the way he subconsciously leaned towards me, until we were in each other's comforting space. If I ever told him all the things he did when he stressed, he'd probably laugh at me. But I knew them like the back of my hand. I watched for them, and even in the last five years, whenever I'd seen the signs, I'd find an excuse to stand near him. Even as I I told myself that I hated his guts, I'd watch with satisfaction as his tension slowly melted away. If I'd ever needed a reason to believe that we were meant to be together, this alone was it.

"Well, Bells, I'm glad to hear it," my dad said, pulling me towards him for a quick hug. "It's high time you decided to give this guy a break."

"Thanks, Chief Swan," Edward said suavely, extending his hand to shake, his face almost completely straight and serious. "And I promise I'll be a better friend to Bella."

_Almost_.

I looked over at him, and wasn't surprised at all to see the slight twinkle in his green eyes or the slight sly curl of the corner of his lips. I knew exactly what kind of "friend" Edward Cullen wanted to be to me.

I couldn't help myself. I was normally introverted in groups to the point where I'd be paralyzed if the attention ever focused on me, but today, in this moment, with mischievous edge in Edward's eyes egging me on, I simply threw back my head and laughed. Instantly, everyone's attention was on me, and to my own surprise, I didn't freeze. I didn't even flinch. I just smiled back

Renee reached over and cupped my cheek tenderly in her hand as she glanced over at Edward. "I hope she holds you to that Edward, since it appears that, with your help, our dear Bella is finally beginning to emerge out of her shell."

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The next week passed excruciatingly slow. Charlie and Carlisle stayed for the week and so did Emmett and his cousin, Jasper. Of course, they maintained that the reason for their extended visit was the impromptu football practices that Charlie had begun to hold on the beach, but I knew better. Rose had Emmett wrapped around her little finger and when she said "stay," he stayed. As for Jasper, it was obvious to just about everyone that he was doing everything he could to impress Alice, and it was just as obvious that it was working. He had a momentum going now, and there was no way he was going to leave either.

So instead of leaving on Sunday evening, after the Fourth of July weekend ended, they all stayed. I tried to think about the overflowing house positively, but it was hard to. Edward and I could never sneak off for time alone, not only because we'd stupidly denied our relationship, but also because there was never an available moment. Between football practices and barbecues and yard work and housework and the million other tasks that Renee and Esme always found for us to do, alone time was not only scarce, it was nonexistent.

By the next weekend, I was dying for more than just a quick hurried kiss from Edward. I wanted some real time with him. Alone. I wondered if he felt the same way.

Friday morning found me in the pantry, trying to make a list of what we needed before a trip to the grocery store. I'd just begun taking stock of the canned goods we had on hand when I heard the door suddenly shut behind me and I whirled around in surprise.

"Edward," I breathed out, my heart beating fast. "You scared me."

"I had to get you alone," he said, his deep voice even deeper. Rougher. I was beginning to recognize that voice. I opened my mouth to agree with him, but before I could, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close.

"I can't do this," he murmured, burying his face into the curve of my neck. "We never should have tried to hide it. Being just your friend is literally _killing _me."

I chuckled at his dramatic proclamation, but I wasn't sure I disagreed with him. We needed to get away from everyone's prying eyes and soon. I didn't add that he had been "just my friend" for years now. I hated to see the guilt in his eyes whenever I reminded him of the way we'd been in the past.

"What about tonight?" I said. "We can sneak out after everyone's asleep. Go to the dunes."

Edward's hands had slipped under my tank top and were busy caressing the skin of my back as his lips drifted over my neck. This suggestion stopped him abruptly.

"You're sure? This isn't really like you, Bella." He said it skeptically, like he wasn't sure I could be the bad girl who snuck out of the house so she could make out with her secret boyfriend. Or lover. Or whatever Edward was. We hadn't exactly had a lot of time alone so we could discuss the situation, and though I hated to admit it, I could feel the summer ticking away, leaving Edward and I with less and less time for us to be comfortable and secure in whatever we had. I wasn't a fool; I knew that going back to Forks and school would be tough. Edward and I didn't just run in different social circles--we existed in different social _universes_.

So even though I wasn't sure at all that it was a good idea to sneak out, I could feel time slipping away from us, so I just nodded in confirmation. I couldn't bear to lose Edward again, and if that meant I had to tie him to me with sex, I would happily do it. And who was I kidding anyway? The only man I had ever wanted was Edward. It wouldn't exactly be a chore to become more physically involved with him.

"If you're sure then," Edward replied. "Meet me on the porch at 1 AM." And then, as if I needed to be reminded what awaited me if I kept our "date," he kissed me quickly but ferociously and completely, stealing my breath and melting every bone in my body to goo.

"1 AM," I repeated breathlessly.

Reluctantly, with a small sad smile, he let me go and moved towards the closed door. We'd had so many of these emergency "trysts," that I was unfortunately familiar with how it felt to be left unsatisfied and missing him, _craving _him. But of all the times in the last week he'd left, I'd never seen him look at me so intensely before. Like he was trying to memorize every line and angle and pore in my face. Then, suddenly, as if he hadn't just one second before been walking away from me, he was back, clutching me fiercely, nearly pulling me on top of him. His hands were in my hair, on my face, running down my back in rivulets of sensation.

"Bella," he gasped between kisses, "Swear to me. We'll tell soon. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep it a secret."

I pulled away from him and nodded, unable to speak. But inside, I was a frothing mess of joy. I had felt this same way, thought those same words, every single time he had left me, but I had never had the courage in me to pull him back, to try to express to him what hiding this felt like to me.

"Okay, I'm really leaving now," Edward said unsteadily, resting his forehead on mine, his green eyes glittering with that same joy that was swirling inside of me.

And then, just as suddenly as he'd appeared, he was gone, the door swinging shut behind his tall form.

"Tonight," I told myself, as I turned back to the pantry shelves and tried not to let my frustration overwhelm me. "_Tonight_."

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That night it seemed as if nobody would just go to sleep. I felt like I was six years old again, on Christmas Eve, waiting for nighttime and Santa Claus to slide down the chimney and deliver my presents under the tree.

But this time my presents weren't a surprise and they weren't delivered by a jolly man in a red coat, and instead of dozens wrapped in brightly colored paper, there was just one. And he was just a man.

_Edward_.

I allowed myself one totally unguarded moment to look at him. He was sprawled on the floor of the living room, lying on his belly, playing checkers with Jasper, while Emmett sat by them, making rude yet hilarious comments about their game. Edward's burnished bronze hair shone in the dim light, and I could clearly make out his muscles under the thin white t-shirt he wore. He looked like so beautiful, so unattainable, like a doll that you don't want to take out of the box in case you muss it accidentally. But then he turned and caught me staring and gave me the biggest smile with all of his straight white teeth showing. The look in those piercing eyes caught me off-guard and hit me straight in the gut.

It was then I realized. Though I had never, _ever _had even a crush on another boy, I knew what I felt for Edward wasn't just puppy love. It wasn't transitory. It wouldn't fade when I grew up. I knew, the way a girl just _knows_, that Edward was my _one. _The one I wanted to marry. The one I wanted to grow old with. The one I wanted to love, forever.

That _one_.

I curled up tighter into my legs, the book I'd been reading, slipping from my hand to the couch underneath me and I just let myself stare into his eyes. His smile didn't fade, didn't budge, and I wondered if he felt it too. If guys even got that 'this is _the one' _feeling.

Then Jasper said something I couldn't hear, and Edward broke eye contact and returned to the game. But I was done for. I picked up my book and the words just swam in front of my eyes. Finally, I gave up and stood up, skirting the checkers game so I could climb upstairs and wait for midnight to strike.

As I passed by the boys on the floor, Edward reached out and held onto my leg. His hand was hot and I almost gasped at the sudden skin-to-skin contact, electricity skittering up my spine. "Bella," he murmured, as I glanced down at him. "Remember our date."

My eyes widened in alarm as I tried to gesture to Emmett and Jasper, who were easily within earshot. Edward just shrugged and released the grip he had on my leg. "You think they haven't done it too?" he whispered. "They _have_."

I giggled, the excitement of what we would be doing in only a few hours bubbling up towards the surface. "See you soon," I said instead of saying goodnight. And as I climbed the stairs, I had to force myself not to look back down into the family room at Edward.

Edward's sisters were sitting on one of the beds in our room, reading a fashion magazine as Alice brushed Rosalie's hair. They looked up as I came in. I tried to keep my head down, and my hair brushed over much of my face, so they wouldn't see the love and triumph that I knew was written all over it.

"Bella!" Alice exclaimed looking up from the pages of the magazine. "You're up here early. I thought you'd stay downstairs so you could talk to Edward." Her voice was innocent but the expression on her face was knowing. She definitely had an idea that something was up between us.

I shook my head. "I'm tired. I think I'm going to go to bed early."

"But it's early," Rose whined. "It's only 11. When have we _ever _gone to bed then?"

I just shrugged, turning my back so they wouldn't see my smirk. I had _zero _intention of actually falling asleep. Nope, I was going to be up for hours.

"Rose . ." Alice said in a warning voice. "It's summer, we're all active. I'm tired too. Let's just go to bed."

I couldn't name why Alice would acquiesce so easily if she didn't know what I was up to—or why she would help convince Rose for that matter—but I was grateful for it regardless. We turned out the light and I slipped under the light comforter on my bed. The next two hours were going to pass with excruciating slowness, I was sure.

Alice and Rose were both clearly asleep within an hour, so I snuck out early, moving slowly and carefully so my feet wouldn't make any sound on the hardwood floors. Silently I opened the door and then edged out of it and down the hallway. The house was silent, and I didn't even breathe as I padded down the stairs and went out the back porch.

I was so absorbed in trying to make sure that the porch screen door didn't bang shut behind me that I didn't even see the dark shadowy figure already sitting on the porch stairs. I gasped as I turned around and came face to face with. . .

Edward. Only Edward.

Breath whooshed out of my lungs and I laughed unsteadily, adrenaline still rushing through my veins. "Edward, you _scared _me."

We sat down on the porch stairs, and I noticed that Edward had glanced at his watch, a confused expression on his face. "It's barely after midnight," he said. "You're early."

"So are you," I retorted, slightly miffed that he was not exactly thrilled that we had made it out here without anyone being the wiser.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Edward had turned toward me, and the confusion had evaporated off his face, only to leave an incredibly sexy, knee-weakening grin of total sexual confidence in its place.

He stood up and held his hand out. With a deep breath that I needed to steady the sudden flare up of butterflies in my stomach, I took it and we walked hand in hand, towards the dunes.

It was almost completely dark, except for the lights from the houses along the beach. I could hear the crashing of the waves against the sand as we neared the ocean. Edward seemed to know exactly where he was going so I let him lead me, gripping his hand tightly.

He stopped suddenly, abruptly, and I almost crashed into him because I couldn't see him. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. We had long since left the light of the houses behind, and I didn't know how Edward could have any idea of where we were. But suddenly a light flashed and I saw a flashlight in Edward's hand. He laid it on the ground and pulled me close to him, the beam making ghostly shadows on his face as he kissed me.

Unlike our hurried, frantic kisses of earlier today, these were slower—almost measured, as if Edward knew what he was doing. Of course, I reminded myself, Edward _did _know what he was doing. I let myself relax and follow Edward's lead. For once, we didn't have to rush to avoid being caught, and I liked that.

I liked that I could take my time and let my hands slide over the plain cotton of his t-shirt, feeling every inch of his chest. I liked the way his tongue deliberately brushed against mine, as our kisses deepened. For the first time, his hands skimmed almost shamelessly over the curve of my ass. I half-groaned in my mouth, surprised at how amazing it felt to finally have his hands on me the way I'd wanted for so long.

Edward broke away, pulling me down towards the sand. He lay down and I straddled him, groaning into the warm cavern of his mouth as his palms traced up the skin of my stomach, lifting my shirt as he went. I was momentarily surprised to feel him fling the shirt away and I froze. I hadn't expected him to start dispensing with clothing nearly so quickly, and I squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly and unexpectedly embarrassed.

"Don't be embarrassed," Edward murmured, as he traced patterns on my skin. "Please don't. You're just so incredibly beautiful. I _had _to see you."

Gradually I opened my eyes, almost afraid of what I'd see in his gaze, but still buoyed by the reverence I'd heard in his voice. I'd been right, he _did _look like his voice sounded, but I still couldn't look at him while he looked at me. Blood suffused my skin, and I clamped my eyes shut again. Edward kissed me gently. "Do you want me to turn the flashlight off?" he asked.

I nodded helplessly and I didn't feel comfortable opening my eyes again until he did. But then I didn't know whether it was light or dark or a million different colors of the rainbow because his hands moved higher, cupping my bare breasts in this rough yet gentle hands and I forgot to be embarrassed or even scared. His hands were devastating and I couldn't help the guttural groan as I rubbed myself helplessly over him, grinding hard at the undeniable hardness of his cock in his shorts as the pleasure surrounding us grew.

My breaths were gasps in between kisses and I moved frantically, needing more and more and _more_.

"Fuck, Bella," Edward ground out, his voice low and guttural and elemental. His fingers played a complicated pattern over my nipples and I felt myself closing in on something mind-blowing. My thighs ached as I slid mindlessly over him, trying to find that last little bit of pleasure that I needed to fling myself off the final cliff.

I was so close, so absorbed in that desperate, frantic search that the rest of the world dissolved around us, so much so that I didn't even _see _the flashlights approaching. There were too many flashes of blinding pleasure in my eyes that I couldn't even begin to differentiate between those and the real thing. So by the time I heard the voices it was almost too late.

Edward heard them the very second I did and we paused together, frozen in place. "Did you hear that?" Edward whispered, his voice a big bucket of cold water on the pleasurable haze I'd been swimming through only moments earlier.

I wished frantically that I could say that I hadn't. That it had simply been my overactive imagination. But I knew it hadn't been. I strained in the dark air, hoping I'd hear it again. And then I did.

"Bella? Edward? Where are you?"

Swaths of high beam light cut across the sand and I could feel the sudden clamminess of Edward's skin against mine.

It was my dad.

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**AN: Yeah, next chapter it REALLY hits the fan. Woo hoo. That'll be fun, right? RIGHT? Just be glad right now that you're not Edward and probably going to die in the next ten seconds.**

**KIDDING. Charlie's not going to kill Edward. At least I don't think he will. Do you?  
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**If anyone wants to read a one shot while they wait for the next update, I wrote a really fun (and super smutty--yes it is reminiscent of Putting Lessons itself) one shot for the Love Through Lemons Contest being hosted by tby789 and LolaShoes. It's called UNDER MY SKIN. Check it out!  
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	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Only 2 more chapters after this one! And yes that means that our sweet couple is going to consummate their relationship soon :)**

**I originally started this story for Mommyofboth, who won me in the Support Stacie auction. Stacie is a wonderful woman laid low by a nasty cancer. Help her out by bidding for me and _you _could win a story just like this one! Details on my profile.**

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EPOV

For the last 17 years, I'd lived a fairly charmed life. I'd never struggled with making friends, though I _had _been forced to live without my best friend for the last five years. I was considered good-looking and charming. I was undeniably athletic. And I'd lived in Forks for my whole life without getting into any major scrapes—with the incident in the tree being the exception to that particular rule.

Unfortunately, this catastrophe had that so far eclipsed I could barely even force the thoughts through my sluggish, panicked brain. I could feel Bella scrambling off me, almost kneeing me in the junk, but I didn't even jerk back instinctively. If she'd hit me, I would have taken suffered through the pain prosaically.

Karma, after all, was a bitch.

The only time I looked away from the beam of the approaching flashlight was to make sure that Bella had managed to recover her shirt. Confirming that she had, I just stared right into the light, not flinching once, ready to take the blame for everything that I'd done.

The flashing beams drew closer, and I could hear Bella still panting a little next to me, whether out of residual arousal or just plain fear, I wasn't sure. As for me, I was pretty calm. Kind of like the eye of the storm.

"Edward." Carlisle shined the light directly in my eyes and I didn't even blink. I could feel Charlie wrapping an arm around Bella and helping her to her feet.

As Carlisle grabbed me rather roughly by the arm and dragged me to my feet, I knew I was going to die. It wasn't really a question of _if_, it was more a question of _when_.

Nobody said a word as our fathers schlepped us towards the house. Even though it must have easily 1 AM, the porch light was blazing, and I could see that several other rooms were also brightly lit. Everyone, I realized with an inward groan, was up and _everyone _was going to witness the forthcoming scene.

Esme and Renee were waiting up in the kitchen. Esme was clutching a chipped mug full of tea, and though her expression was rather stern, I could see a faraway twinkle in her eye. Renee wasn't even bothering to hide her amusement.

"Going to lock him up in the dungeon, Carlisle?" She asked rather irreverently, indicating the rough grip my dad had on my arm with a nod of her head.

"He deserves it," Carlisle grumbled and I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"He does not," Bella spoke up, her voice surprisingly strong. "He hasn't done anything wrong."

I heard Carlisle murmur under his breath, "as far as you know," and I was so glad that I had decided to confess all to Bella before this moment, because it sure as hell looked like more than one skeleton was going to be unearthed from the closet tonight.

"Esme," Carlisle spoke up, "go get Jasper and Emmett out of bed. And your daughters, too."

"We're up ," Alice said, with a _way _too perky voice. She sashayed into the room, with a brightly pattern silk robe tied tightly around her waist. Rose followed close behind her, a scowl on her beautiful face.

"And why do you need Emmett?" she whined. "He's been in bed this whole time. Unlike Eddie here, he didn't sneak out."

For half a second, I considered opening my trap and protesting this strongly. After all, I had a pretty damn good idea what Rosalie and Emmett got up to, and they were way ahead of Bella and I on the learning I had a feeling, from the way that Jasper had been mooning after my dark-haired sister, that Alice wasn't going to be that far behind Rose.

But before I could say anything to defend this completely untrue accusation, my dad spoke up again. "I don't care," he bit off, clearly annoyed. "We're having a family meeting in the living room. Cullens and Swans. Right Charlie?"

From Charlie's expression, he was definitely backing this plan 100%. And I would not have been surprised if the majority of this "Family Meeting" consisted of me staring down the barrel of Charlie's shotgun.

"So does that mean that Jasper and Emmett are exempt?" Alice asked again, her voice hopeful.

Carlisle wheeled around and faced her. I'd never seen him so close to losing his temper. "_No_. If Jasper or Emmett are interested in dating either a Cullen _or_ a Swan, that means their presence is also _required_."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alice scoffed. "Who says that Jasper is interested in dating _anyone_?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at Alice's protestations. It was abundantly clear to everyone in the house that not only was Jasper interested in dating, he was very interested in dating her. Apparently Carlisle actually agreed with me, because he held up a hand to stop her whining. "I don't want to hear it, Alice. Let's not play games."

Then, Carlisle turned towards me, as if I was going to try to protest again that nothing was going on between Bella and I, and I just shrugged. I was hardly going to deny that I cared about her and wanted to be with her anymore, especially after getting caught making out in the sand dunes. Besides, over the last few weeks, I'd decided that if Bella and I were going to make whatever this was between us work, then we needed to go public with it. No more hiding.

And ten minutes later, as I faced down my two dads, I knew without a doubt that it was the right decision. It just wasn't the _easy _decision. But then, the only easy part about Bella had been falling in love with her.

_Whoa. _Just . . ._whoa_.

I thought Charlie might be talking to me, but I couldn't even fucking hear him because the roaring in my head was suddenly catastrophically loud. _I was in love with Bella?_

Panic welled inside me, and I gripped the side of the couch so hard that when I glanced down, my knuckles were so white they were almost bluish. _Yes, _I thought with a calmness bordering on absolute lunacy, _of course I'm in love with Bella._

"Edward? _Edward_." Carlisle barked at me, and I snapped my head back up to look at him.

"Could you, I don't know, _pay attention_? Considering that you're the reason this meeting was called in the first place?" I'd never seen Carlisle look so put out, or me care so little. Every single brain cell I had was busy trying to process the realization that I'd just had. _Love. Bella. Swan_.

I nodded mutely, the echo of my realization still thrumming in my head. _I loved Bella Swan. I loved Bella. Edward Cullen loves Bella Swan. Forever_.

It was a testament to how much the fact that loving Bella threw me that I didn't even bat an eye at the "forever" part--after all, I'd always known, somehow, that Bella was it for me. She was my end point, my stopping place, and even if I'd known her my entire life, I didn't ever want to _not _know her.

"Dude, you should pay attention, before Charlie decides to use his shotgun to get it," Emmett cackled loudly, clearly totally unconcerned about this whole "meeting" we were having.

"_Dude,_" Charlie said, his face totally impassive except for the corner of his mouth, which was definitely twitching, "I wouldn't put it past that guy."

"Enough joking," Carlisle's voice, unusually stern, broke through the suddenly jovial atmosphere, and I looked at him. His lips were tightly compressed together and he appeared to be anything but amused. "Edward, I told you six years ago to stay away from Bella. . ."

Carlisle barely got those words out before someone cleared their throat in the doorway. I looked up from my seat on the loveseat. Carlisle and Charlie looked up from their position opposite me, on the couch, and even Jasper and Emmett, currently sprawled on the ground and half-asleep, swiveled their heads.

It was Bella. She looked young and small and vulnerable, clad only in her t-shirt and boxer shorts, but there was a steely determination that I'd never seen in her gaze before. And instead of cowering at Charlie's pointed look, she marched into the room and stood between me and the two men most likely to perform a castration.

"No. _No_." Her voice trembled a bit at the beginning, but she cleared her throat and re-emphasized. "_No_. You had no right to do that. If Edward and I want to be together, there's _no _earthly reason why you should stop him. He's a good man. He'll treat me right."

The room went so quiet that I could hear Bella breathing in front of me. I could see that her hand was trembling a little, and she clenched it into a fist, probably so that her dad or Carlisle wouldn't see how hard it was for her to confront them and fight for what she wanted.

And what was it that finally got Bella to stop being an observer in her own life and take control and fight?

_Me_.

If I hadn't already realized that I loved this girl with every god damned breath I took, this moment would have been it. The way she was facing down her dad and mine was quite possibly the bravest, the best, the _hottest _thing I had ever seen Bella Swan did--and that was saying something because I'd been pretty much sexually obsessed with Bella from the age of eleven.

"Bella, are you sure?" Carlisle asked, so quietly that I almost missed it in my exultation.

Was she _sure? _I couldn't believe that _my own father _had questioned Bella's certainty that I was a good man and that I'd take care of her.

I didn't think; I didn't contemplate--I just jumped to my feet, wrapping one arm around Bella's waist and pulling her close. In front of God and Charlie Swan and Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

"What are you trying to say?" I growled. "That I won't take good care of Bella? Because I fucking wouldn't stand for anything else. She deserves the best. Maybe even better than me. But I can't go another day without claiming her as mine."

Carlisle's eyebrows inched upwards, and I continued, my voice growing louder, trying to keep up with the temper that was exploding exponentially inside my chest. "I'm sick and fucking _tired _of being told that I shouldn't have Bella and she shouldn't have me. _No more_."

Bella moved even closer to me, and Charlie's eyes narrowed, but she didn't move back. We stood there, in front of the two men who'd done everything in their power to prevent us from ever being together, and we fought for what we wanted most: each other.

"Bella," Carlisle said again, his voice deceptively quiet, belying the steel behind it, "answer the question."

I looked down at her as she glanced up at me from under her lashes. We smiled, and I knew then that this girl was the _one _person who would always be on my side, no matter what. She would be on my side, I was sure, even when I was convinced she was fighting against me. She cared _that _much.

"I've never been so sure of anything," she said softly. "I love him."

My arm tightened on her waist at her words. Even though I'd been fairly Bella had strong feelings for me, there was nothing on earth like hearing her announcing to my father that she loved me.

Emmett gave a pseudo-groan on the ground and hissed, "I can nearly feel my balls shrinking just by being in the room while you four have this bonding moment. _Please _can I go?"

"No," Carlisle barked, barely even sparing Emmett a glance. "If Bella is sure that Edward is what she wants, then we need to talk about some. . .limits. And nobody needs to hear more about limits than you, Emmett."

"I agree," Charlie drawled, eying first the arm I had wrapped around his daughter, and then patting his holstered handgun. "Bella, go to bed. It's late."

I moved to detach her from me, as I didn't want to cross Charlie's first request of us as a sanctioned couple, but Bella held firm. "I'm staying," she said stubbornly, facing down her father again.

"It's late, Bells. Go to bed," he sighed. "Edward isn't going to evaporate overnight, and I promise not to hurt him. At least too badly, anyway."

Carlisle chuckled at this and I glared at him. "Very funny," I said, not amused. "If you're trying to put her at ease, you're failing."

"Oh, Bella knows I wouldn't hurt you. Because then she'd have my neck." Charlie winked at Bella, and her arm loosed around me. She turned towards me and even though we were in front of both of our fathers, her small hands grasped my neck and pulled me down towards her for a kiss.

Now, I had every intention of making it a quick, "Charlie, please don't kill me," kiss, but Bella, that stubborn girl, clearly had other ideas. She was deceptively strong for her size and she held me to her, turning our brief brush of lips into something else altogether.

She pulled away at the sound of her dad clearing his throat. "Goodnight, Edward," she said, flashing me a flirtatious smile before walking out of the room.

"Emmett," Carlisle said, gesturing to the heap of sleeping Texan on the floor, "now that we've settled Romeo and Juliet, wake up Jasper there, and we'll have a friendly little chat about our daughters."

I sat back down on the sofa gratefully as Emmett shook Jasper awake. "Get up, fool. If you ever want to even be in the same _room _as Alice, you'd better listen to this."

Jasper rose, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. "What did I miss?"

"So far, this punk kid kiss my daughter," Charlie chortled. "And a rather impassioned declaration of love, as well." Charlie eyed me suspiciously and I thought he must think I was a total loser for listening to Bella's confession of love and saying nothing in return. Little did he know, I thought smugly, I was waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell her. After an interrogation by our dads, with all these people watching us, wasn't exactly the romantic moment I'd envisioned.

"Sit down, boys, and listen up," Carlisle said, as Emmett and Jasper shuffled over to where I was sitting. It was a bit cramped, with three full grown boys jostling for position, but finally we settled down. "Charlie and I have talked about this, and we think you need to be aware of how special our daughters are."

Emmett raised his hand like he was in class and wanted to be called on to answer a question. "Yes, Emmett?" Carlisle asked with a straight face, but Charlie was already chuckling.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say that trust me, _we know _how special the girls are."

"Yeah," I inserted, "as if Rose would stand for you _not _knowing."

Jasper laughed at this, and Emmett glared. "Dude, I'm trying to help you out here."

"Thanks, but no thanks," I chortled. "I don't know if I want your help. I think I'm doing okay on my own."

Emmett looked at me in surprise. "Well, I suppose so. At least you've finally got that Tanya chick off your tail."

_Uh oh_. I could already see that Charlie's interest was piqued, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at me. "Tanya?"

"An. . .ex," I said lamely, not sure that Tanya was what I'd call an ex, but I couldn't very well explain to my new girlfriend's father that she was just some girl who'd wanted to screw me.

"Ah," Charlie replied, and there was a wealth of meaning in that one drawn out syllable. The good news was that Bella could hardly be unaware of Tanya's existence. If Charlie told her about this, she wouldn't exactly be hearing about Tanya for the first time.

"And that's part of what we need to discuss," Carlisle broke in. "My daughters--Bella included--deserve the very best. They deserve respect and _love_."

Emmett was nodding now, his eyes never leaving my dad's face. Clearly he was trying to impress on Carlisle that he was capable of both respect _and _love, though I wasn't so sure about the latter. But then, I didn't know if Rose was either, so maybe it was alright.

"And if_ either _of us finds out that you aren't treating our daughters with respect and love, then well. . ." Charlie tapped his sidearm again, and from the way that all three of us tensed, I knew we got the message loud and clear.

"Now," Carlisle said, a smile on his face for the first time since he'd caught Bella and I, "go to bed. It's late."

Jasper and Emmett raced out the room so fast that I was surprised that Charlie wasn't clocking their speed like he liked to do at football practices--but he wasn't because he was hanging back, obviously waiting for me.

Great. How much abuse was I going to be subjected to in one evening?

"Edward," Charlie said conversationally, slinging an arm around my shoulder, "you know I think of you like a son, right?"

I really hoped this was not going to be a treatise on how my burgeoning relationship with Bella was incestuous, but I nodded anyway.

"I've been waiting for you to grow up and be a man with Bella . . .well. . .for awhile now. I just want to let you know I'm proud of you--as long as you treat my daughter right, that is." He smiled, and I found myself floundering as to the meaning of this confession. What did he mean, he'd been waiting _awhile_?

"You mean, sir. . .that you aren't _mad_ that we're together now?"

He shook his head and laughed. "I was mad that you wanted to sneak around and ignore her and not treat her right. Left her miserable and sad and lonely. But you're going to make it right now. At least you better." He punched me playfully on the arm, but instead, I felt like I'd just been punched in the gut.

But I still wasn't sure I had this straight. "You mean, you've been waiting for me to stand up to you and my dad?"

"Yep."

And didn't that just say it all.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: There is no real apology that can justify how long this story has taken to complete, so I won't even make an excuse. I am so thankful to everyone who read this story and sent me encouraging reviews and PMs. I love that everyone loved this particular version of Edward and Bella as much as I did.**

**Thank you to MommyofBoth, who purchased this story for the second Support Stacie auction that I participated in. Without her, the story of Putting Lessons Edward and Bella would never have seen the light of day.**

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BPOV

July slipped slowly by, one day melting into the next. I was nearly seething with frustration, the temperature outside dwarfed by the heat pulsing just underneath my skin. Esme and Renee had kept a close watch on Edward and I, and as a result, we had been able to sneak only a handful of long, slow kisses that raised my blood from a mere simmer to a rolling boil.

Still, I believed in my naivety that we still had all the time in the world. It wasn't until one sweltering evening at the end of July, when I raced up the stairs to grab my cell phone, and I saw Esme in Edward's room, a huge suitcase laid out in front of her, that I realized that I'd been wrong. We didn't have all the time in the world—we didn't have any time at all.

"Esme, you're. . .packing." I barely managed to get the words out past my suddenly thick throat and even thicker tongue. Panic swelled in my stomach until I felt as if the ice cream I'd just eaten was going to curdle.

"Edward's leaving tomorrow afternoon. He's got football practice starting Monday morning."

How could I have forgotten? For Edward, school began early—at the beginning of August, with two-a-days. Suddenly desperate, I wondered if I could convince Renee to let me go back to Portland early. I wasn't ready to relinquish my hold on this summer yet. I needed more time to tie Edward to me until there were no more doubts lingering in my heart about what would happen when we went back to school.

Esme glanced back at me, her gaze taking in the sudden panic in my expression. "Bella, it'll be fine."

I swallowed hard, my throat closing convulsively. She didn't understand; she couldn't possibly. The idea that I could lose Edward, now that I really knew what it meant to be with him, was an agony beyond comprehension. I _couldn't_ lose him.

I wasn't even able to respond to Esme. Instead, I blundered back down the stairs, clumsily clutching at the railing when my feet threatened to slide out from under me. Edward was on the porch steps, finishing his ice cream, his hair gleaming like a new copper penny in the fierce summer sunlight. My heart clenched and stuttered.

"You're leaving tomorrow." I couldn't remove the direness from the words. I couldn't pretend that I didn't care. I cared—deeply and irrevocably. And my feelings, sharp and true, were laid bare for him to see.

"Oh, that's right," he said casually, turning around and smiling at me with such unconcern that I wanted to yell and scream and throw something at him. Didn't he get it? The world I'd carefully constructed around us the last few weeks was falling down around me. Everything was going to change and there was nothing I could say or do could stop it.

I sat down beside him on the step, clenching my hands together so he couldn't see that they were trembling with fear. "It'll be fine, Bells. I promise."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted it desperately. But Edward was asking me to believe six weeks over six years, and I couldn't do it. Fear settled hard and cold and irrevocable in the pit of my stomach.

I shook my head. "No, it _won't_be fine."

"Don't you trust me?" He looked a little wounded, and any other moment, I would have smiled and laughed and done whatever I could to put him at ease—to put _myself_at ease—but there were no words I could say to dispel the storm inside me and so I just looked back at him, the truth bald in my eyes.

He said nothing, but I thought I saw a flash of something like hurt in his eyes, before he turned towards the ocean. Already, I thought, the hairline cracks were beginning to show. Before the end, I knew I'd be fractured into a million shards. Me _and_my heart.

"I can't say I blame you. I haven't done much to prove that I'm worth trusting." Edward's voice was wry and regretful, but honest. He knew he'd spent much of the last six years fucking up.

"But despite that. . .please, Bella. Just . . ._try_. Try to believe that it'll be okay. I give you my word—no, I swear that what we have between us, it's not going to fade the minute I go back to Portland. I've loved you forever, I'm not just going to stop now."

Edward's impassioned plea should have been enough. The words themselves were heartfelt and fierce love shone in his eyes. But despite all of that, I couldn't help the insidious thread of doubt that wormed into my heart. He'd betrayed me once; he could so easily betray me again.

So I said nothing, because I couldn't trust myself not to say what I feared most of all. The silence stretched out between us for five seconds, then ten, then thirty. I could hear the pounding of the ocean on the sandy beach and the echoing laughter of the kids as they frolicked in the water.

"What can I do to prove it to you?" Edward asked again, turning back towards me, and taking my hands in his. "Call you every ten minutes? I'll text you constantly. _Anything_."

And then I knew what we could do. What _he_could do to prove once and for all that I was the girl that he wanted above all the others. The thing I could give to him that would tie him to me, even if he didn't want to be. I knew Edward Anthony Cullen; if I gave this to him, he would never, ever turn away from me. His sense of loyalty and that iron-hard core of honor would hold him to me.

A whispering voice inside that told me that this wasn't what I really wanted, that this wasn't the way that I'd always envisioned how it could be between us. That it should be a meeting of two souls, physically and emotionally. But instead of listening to that voice, I told myself that this way, Edward and I would be together forever. And in the end, that was all that mattered. If a little of the stardust that had always clouded my eyes and filled my heart had to be sacrificed to such a noble goal, so be it. I would sacrifice the rainbows and puffy pink hearts—and so much more—to be with Edward.

"Anything?" I looked up at him, into those incredibly earnest green eyes.

"Anything."

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to stop the sudden surge of nerves deep in my belly, and met his gaze straight on. "Find a way to be alone with me tonight. Totally alone. No interruptions. No one bothering us."

I knew that Edward didn't have to ask me what I meant. He knew what I wanted and his expression grew serious. "That's a pretty big step, Bells. . ."

I cut him off. "I know," I said impatiently. "I'm ready." As if I would want to ever give it to anyone but him. I'd wanted him that way since the tender age of 12. Despite that I was more than a little sick of waiting, I knew I was rushing the natural progression of things between us. And worse, he knew it too.

We said nothing about him being ready because we both knew that he wasn't a virgin. I'd waited for him, like a semi-pathetic groupie. He hadn't waited, and suddenly that lay between us, unsaid.

"Are you sure?" Edward still looked like he had doubts.

"You'd think you didn't want me." I tried to infuse the words with a playful flirtatiousness that fell flat in the humid air between us. Edward's eyes were suddenly remote—flat green marbles that communicated nothing.

But he nodded, once. "Okay. If that's what it will take."

I knew then that if he did as I requested, then he'd told me the truth about his feelings because it was obvious that he wasn't thrilled about the circumstances of our first time. Of _my _first time. But he'd asked me my price, I'd named it, and in his need to prove himself, he was going to pay it—even if he didn't like it. All because he loved me.

"Edward. . .how are we going to . . .?" My voice trailed off as I lost the courage to ask him how and where we would do it.

He almost seemed to grow up before my eyes: his back straightening, the chiseled features of his face tightening and rearranging until he seemed older. In charge. Determined. The same way he'd looked before he led Forks on a playoff game-winning touchdown drive last fall.

"I've got a few ideas," he said, and although I'd asked him for this as a way to bring us closer together, I was undeniably aware of the space in his voice that pushed us apart. Further apart than we'd been since the attack on the beach. Edward turned and went into the house, the sound of the screen door slamming punctuating his exit. I shivered, despite the heat in the air, and tried to remind myself of why I'd thought this was such a brilliant idea.

I brought my worn copy of _Wuthering Heights _onto the porch with me and tried to read as the sun flamed down over the sandy dunes, but I found I couldn't concentrate. With every inch that the sun fell, I grew more nervous and agitated. After I'd read the same paragraph five times and still hadn't managed to comprehend its meaning, I put my book down.

When would he emerge from the house? Would he take me away? Would he find some way for us to stay here? My stomach churned with nerves, and even staring out in the waves of the ocean did nothing to calm them.

Finally, after the sun had almost totally dropped behind the dunes, and lights had begun to appear all over the coast, I heard the screen door open and close behind me. I turned and Edward was standing there, his car keys in his hand. He was wearing the same t-shirt and khaki cargo shorts he'd had on earlier, but his expression had only turned more serious in the passing hours.

"You ready to go?" he asked, the same remoteness still in his voice.

I nodded, suddenly uncertain. "Do I need to tell Renee or Esme that we're leaving?"

"I've already talked to them." He walked off the porch, across the lawn and around the side of the house on the path that led to the gravel driveway and I followed somewhat helplessly behind him. He didn't explain what he'd told our mothers and I didn't ask, the nerves paralyzing my vocal cords until I was sure I wouldn't be able to do more than croak.

Edward was silent as we got into the car and turned onto the highway that led back to Portland. We drove for ten minutes, past the hotels I'd imagined we'd stop at, and the boardwalk and then finally, we passed the edge of the beach town. Ten minutes later and no closer to stopping, I finally decided that it was time for Edward to tell me what the hell was going on. My nerves had somehow faded as my curiosity as to where we were headed grew.

"Where are we going?"

"You said you wanted to be alone." Edward glanced over at me, and I glimpsed a hint of playfulness in his expression. Relief filled me. He wasn't angry; he didn't hate me. Although I had somewhat forced him into this, he was okay with it.

"And where will that be?" I wasn't quite willing to let it go—at least not yet. Especially not since we were seemingly talking again.

"You'll find out. All in good time." He flashed me one of his devastating smiles and the last nerves transformed, almost instantly, into something else entirely.

We drove for another hour, and the further we went, the more I began to suspect where Edward was taking us. But he couldn't. That was. . .crazy. Ridiculous. Completely insane.

But, to my utter shock, we finally pulled to a stop at the last place that I'd ever thought he'd take me: my own house. The street was dark and quiet, and so was my house. I wondered where Charlie was.

"Charlie's at a football conference this weekend." Edward answered my unasked question as we got out of the car. I shivered a little, more from my suddenly-returning nerves than the chill of the evening.

I started to walk up the steps to the front door, but Edward reached and took ahold of my hand. "No, not in the house."

"Huh?" Were we going to do it on the front lawn, like a pair of exhibitionist hippies?

Edward shrugged, looking more self-conscious than I'd ever seen him before. "It feels. . ." he paused, as if he was searching for the right word, "wrong. Not quite right, anyway."

I nodded. Somehow, after we'd tried so hard to gain our parents approval, flaunting it so openly felt wrong. "So where then?"

"Where else then?" he grinned. "Where else did we always go to be alone?"

The answer was so patently obvious that I couldn't believe that I hadn't guessed it at once. I looked up at him, marveling that this boy-man was mine and was likely to stay that way for a very long time—at least if I had my way.

"You remembered," I murmured as we walked into the backyard, hands intertwined together. "I thought you'd forgotten."

We climbed into the treehouse, me first, my feet moving hesitantly over the rungs of the ladder, not because I was scared at the height, but because the fear of what was about to happen was nearly choking me. I shouldn't be afraid, I told myself, I had _asked _for this.

Inside the treehouse were mounds of pillows and blankets, creating a comfortable bower. It was at once exactly like what we'd used to do when we were children and yet completely different. I felt chilled and I shivered.

Edward drew me close to him, kissing me hard, passionately, as if he'd been waiting for this moment for a long time. "I love you, Bella," he said hoarsely, his lips moving over mine, his tongue dipping into the hot cavern of my mouth, his hands roaming over my body, suddenly possessive and needy.

He cupped the curve of my bottom in his hand and I tried to force all those pesky voices in my head to fall silent and the dank, sick feeling at the base of stomach to go away by kissing him back. But I couldn't. The litany of why we shouldn't be doing this was a constant chorus and I knew that while he was completely invested, his expression passionate and so unbelievably sexy as he drew me to the mound of blankets on the floor the treehouse, I was full of doubts. Fears. I wondered if I would ever forgive myself for this.

His lips coasted over the exposed tendon of my throat, nibbling lightly and then harder, his breaths growing rough.

He pulled back for a split second. "I've never forgotten anything, Bella." His voice, his expression, his eyes—sincerity practically dripped from him. The moment should have been perfect, with us in the treehouse, where it had all started, so many years ago. But somehow, my uneasiness wouldn't fade. In fact, it had only grown. But _why? _I had no reason to distrust Edward. I knew him better than I knew myself, I thought, and I knew beyond any doubt that he was telling me the truth.

And then I knew what the problem was. It wasn't with Edward. At one point it had been, but I was beginning to realize that the misery of the last years wasn't only his fault—it was mine too. And now, this moment had everything to do with my own fear, and much less to do with the boy in front of me.

I froze, my heart suddenly pounding so loud in the silence that I was surprised that he couldn't hear it nearly beating out of my body.

Edward loved me that much—enough that he would go through with this because it was what I said I wanted—and still, it wasn't enough to make me believe that there was something in me that was worth loving that much.

I felt dizzy with revelation. "Edward," I said urgently, yanking him back, even as he tried to pull me towards the ladder and the price I'd asked that he pay me tonight.

"What is it?" A frown creased his perfect forehead, confusion dawning in his eyes. I should be able to tell him why I was suddenly, inexplicably sure that this was the wrong thing to do. But I'd known since the first moment I'd asked that it was the wrong thing to ask for, the last thing that would convince me that Edward truly loved me.

I didn't need sex or romantic gestures or words of love; I needed instead to somehow find the confidence in me—the belief that I had something worth offering Edward Cullen. I had to believe that it wasn't a miracle of epic proportions that he had somehow fallen in love with me. I had to believe that he loved me because I deserved to be loved.

"I can't," I said simply. "I thought I could, but I can't. Not like this."

The furrow in Edward's brow grew deeper. "I thought this was what you wanted, though."

"I thought it was too," I said in earnest, holding his hand tightly in mine. The last thing that I wanted him to think was that I was backing out of this because of him. This time, it was _all _me. I was the one with the inferiority complex and I wasn't going to take our relationship to the next level as a band aid remedy for my own insecurity. I remembered all too well how the many years of Edward's supposed apathy had made my life miserable. The last thing I wanted him to think was that this was in any way his fault.

"I was wrong," I continued. "Wrong to think that this could make me believe how much you love me." I'd never said out loud before that Edward loved me, and while my voice wavered, I felt the certainty of it ring true, like a bell deep in my soul. Saying it out loud seemed to help the yawning well of insecurity I had inside me, so I said it again. "I know you love me, logically, empirically. I need to believe it with my heart, not just my head."

And because I loved him, because we'd known each other for seventeen years, and there was nobody else on earth who could look into my eyes and see all the way to the very core of me—the part that made me _me_—Edward nodded in understanding. "I hated how you looked at yourself. How you didn't think you were worthy to even talk to me," he said in a low voice. "I know I didn't help either. Hell, it was probably mostly my fault that you felt that way, but I still hated it."

He wrapped me in his arms and pulled me close, holding me against him tightly until I felt even a little better still. Not completely recovered, by all means, but better. Better than I'd felt in a long, long time. Maybe the best I'd felt since that day in sixth grade when he hadn't walked home with me for the very first time.

"Thank you," I whispered into his chest, probably so quietly he couldn't hear. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Bells. Every day for the past seventeen years . And probably for every day for at least the next seventy." He hugged me close and I'd never felt more cherished.

"Just seventy?" I whispered back, feeling confident enough in his absolute love to tease him just a little.

"Maybe a few days more than that," he murmured back. "How about forever?"

And I knew, the way I'd known for every day of my seventeen years that he was the one man for me, that he was telling the truth. Forever _might _just be long enough.

THE END

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**To read a great classic lemon between this Edward and Bella, check out the original Putting Lessons one shot that inspired it all!**


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